


Meeting Like This

by FettsOnTop (GTFF)



Series: Meeting Like This [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Complete, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 08:11:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 71,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GTFF/pseuds/FettsOnTop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon an AU, a bounty hunter met a princess and everything changed. Follows movie canon up to ROTJ and has sprinkling of Legends EU throughout.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ord Mantell

“500 for cold-weather thrusters? You're out of your mind.” Leia Organa glared at the Toydarian merchant who blinked his yellow eyes and spread his three fingered hands in the approximation of a shrug. “I need thirty of them,” she snapped. “Can't you give me a discount for buying bulk?”

“You call that bulk? Buy twice that and I'll give you...five percent off each thruster. A good deal, eh? You won't find better.”

Leia knew this was probably not true, but this part of Ord Mantell was a virtual carnival of parts supplies and shipyard merchants. Comparison shopping could take months, and she'd wasted too much time already. They desperately needed new thrusters at the Alliance base on Hoth, and she was due to rendezvous with Han Solo and Chewbacca at the _Millennium Falcon_ within the hour.

“You don't want to buy thrusters here.”

She turned, startled by the the man's voice and proximity. She mentally chastised herself for not being more alert as she gave him a closer inspection. He was average height, roughly good-looking, and wore unremarkable clothes. There was something vaguely familiar about him, and her stomach tightened with fear. “Do I know you?”

“Don't think so. One of those faces, or so I've been told.” He smiled at her, and she relaxed a little.

“Why don't I want to buy thrusters here?”

“Hey now, who asked you?” The Toydarian grumbled. “The lady and I were still bargaining.”

“Thrusters are recycled from trashed speeders. If your speeders are a few years old, you should go to the junkyards first.”

“That's a good tip,” she replied, a little abashed that she hadn't thought it of it herself. “Any particular junkyard you'd recommend?”

“One or two. Depends on your price range.”

“Hey, hey!” The merchant fluttered into their path, agitated by the man's interference. “What's the big idea? You work for some junkyard maybe, eh? It's against the law to conduct business in a competitor's shop. I'll have you jailed.”

The man was armed, like every other person on these streets, but he made no move towards his blaster. Instead he looked the merchant in the eye and spoke in a quiet, menacing tone. “Move.”

The Toydarian's little wings gave two furious flaps, and then the merchant seemed to decide it wasn't worth it.“Ahhh,” he snarled as he backed away. “Get out of my shop, you clone scum.”

Sensing that her own welcome was wearing thin, Leia hastily followed the man out into the crowded street, trying not stare. He looked so normal, could he really be a clone? Of course he could, she scolded herself for being so narrow-minded. Clones were sentient beings, just like anyone else. Maybe he was the clone of someone famous, and that was why he seemed familiar.

His eyes cut over to her, knowingly, it seemed to Leia. As if he was expecting her to say something. She held his gaze and raised her eyebrows questioningly. “So... _do_ you work for a junkyard?”

She could see the smile in his eyes a full two seconds before his mouth twitched in response. “No.” He looked her over thoughtfully. “Thirty cold-weather thrusters, was it?”

She was actually proud of her outfit, which she'd constructed with the express purpose of fitting in while visiting Ord Mantell. She was wearing a worn leather vest over a sleeveless shirt, tight black pants and thick, no-nonsense boots. Her blaster was holstered on a thick utility belt and her hair was drawn up into a long ponytail that hung down her back. She had especially enjoyed Captain Solo's not-so-subtle double take when he saw her her new look.

“Heading to a snow world next?”

“Oh, you know,” she replied with affected carelessness. “If I told you, I'd have to kill you.”

That seemed to amuse him. “Smuggler?”

“Who's asking?” She replied, wishing with all her heart that Han Solo was here to see this.

“Just a pilot.” He smiled at her again, friendly and a little flirtatious. “Maybe I could help you find your thrusters.”

“For a percentage?” Leia asked warily.

“For a drink.” He jerked his head in the direction of a cantina across the street, it's neon sign unlit. “Have a drink with me, and I'll tell you where you can find your parts.”

As nice as he seemed, going into a seedy bar with a stranger went strongly against her cautious nature. “Thanks, but I'm not really thirsty.”

“Neither am I,” he shrugged. “Just an excuse to talk thrusters with a pretty girl.”

Leia arched her eyebrows, bemused. “You're very direct, aren't you?”

“Is that problem?”

“Not necessarily.” There was a hint of challenge in his eyes, and she found herself wanting to accept. He just a lonely pilot trying to pick her up, and she didn't see the harm in a little flirting. “One drink,” she countered firmly, putting her hands on her hips. “And you'd better not be wasting my time.”

“I wouldn't think of it.” He smiled at her again. It was a nice smile, Leia thought. Sort of playful. She pushed aside her reservations. She really needed those thrusters, and as much as she tried to deny it, she wanted to prove to certain arrogant smuggler that she could handle herself.

The bar was typical of Ord Mantell, rough, dirty and crowded. The pilot guided her to a couple of empty stools against the wall at the far side of the bar, and the Besalisk bartender lumbered over to take their drink orders. “I'm not much of a drinker,” Leia said to him. “Do you have anything here that won't render me useless for the rest of the day?”

The Besalisk flapped his jowels and said something that sounded like “Murrghack?”

“Two harbing'rr, no jolt.” the pilot turned back to her as the bartender moved away. “I see someone warned you about the drinks on this rock.”

“Oh, you know the stories that get passed around,” Leia said lightly. “A Hutt walks into a bar on Ord Mantell, and so forth.”

“I've never heard that one.”

“Really?” She kept one eye on the bartender as she talked, but she couldn't figure out what was in the bottles he was shuffling between his four hands. “All right, so a Hutt walks into a bar on Ord Mantell and asks for the strongest drink in the house. The bartender gives it to him, and the Hutt takes one sip and falls over dead. Then the bartender says-”

Two cups were set in front of them, and Leia paused to examine the dark liquid before taking a cautious sip. “That's good,” she said in surprise. “What is this, some kind of cider?”

“I think so. I'm not much of a drinker either.”

“That's sort of unusual for a pilot, isn't it?” She lifted her glass again and smiled at him over the rim. “I'm guessing you don't fly one of those big casino cruisers.”

“No, cargo transport. Used to contract out for the Empire, but I got laid off.” He made a dismissive gesture. “Damn Imps.”

“Damn Imps,” Leia agreed wryly, holding up her cup as if giving a toast.

“Transport's a boring job anyway.” Her left hand was resting on the bar, and he put his hand over hers. His hands were rough and calloused, but clean. His skin was a few shades darker than hers, and her own hand looked very pale and small by comparison. “Not really interesting to talk about. I'd rather hear about you,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of her hand. “You like your job?”

Leia was momentarily distracted by the shiver of excitement that ran up her spine. “Or we could talk about thrusters,” she suggested pointedly.

“We could.” His fingers curled around her hand and turned it palm up, stroking the creases of her palm with his fingertips. Leia decided she'd better not drink any more. The bar seemed suddenly very warm, and she knew her cheeks were flushed. What time was it? Han might come looking for her if she was out too long. He might find her here, flirting with a stranger. The thought of Han Solo getting jealous over her gave her an unexpected thrill, no matter how much she tried to suppress it.

“Thirty thruster replacements is a big job,” he said, breaking into her thoughts. “Maybe I could help you out, if there's room for one more on your secret snow world.”

Startled and a little flustered, she scrambled for a suitable response. “Uh. You're a pilot _and_ a mechanic?”

“I've done a little bit of everything,” he said, his thumb tracing up her bare arm to the inside of her elbow. “But I like to know where I'm headed.”

Leia looked down at his hand on her arm and felt confused. As much as he seemed to applying for a job, his touch seemed to indicate he was after something else entirely. She raised her eyes and caught him looking at her intently. There was something different in his eyes now, something sharper and colder. “You're not going to tell me,” he said, less a question and more a statement.

“I told you I can't-”

“You look a little warm,” he said abruptly, tossing a credit chit on the bar. “It is hot in here. You want to go?”

Leia hesitated, unsure if she was being propositioned. “Go...where?”

“Out there,” he waved towards the back door. “Take a walk.”

“I guess so.” He was holding her hand now, guiding her through the crowd. Leia was surprised by how cool and refreshing the air felt now after the stuffy cantina. It was getting dark, and the sky had a purple tinge to it as the city's neon lights began to come alive. She looked around and realized they were in a dead-end alley now, vacant except for a few trash bins.

“Thank you for the drink,” she said politely, “but I really should be on my way. If you have the names of those-” she took a step back, intending to pull her hand away, but her back hit the rough brick wall. The pilot's hand moved up her arm, and her pulse skyrocketed in response. She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be alone in a back alley on Ord Mantell, contemplating kissing a complete stranger.

And yet, part of her wondered what would be so terrible about doing exactly that. She'd often watched enviously as the other rebel soldiers and pilots engaged in simplistic sexual relationships and brief affairs. Someone like her, in a position of authority with a reputation to maintain, couldn't do that. This led to rumors that she was frigid, or a virgin, but the truth was far less sensational. It was just too complicated for Leia Organa, former Princess, political figurehead and rebel leader, to have relationships.

Would it be so wrong to have one little fling before she was stuck freezing her ass off on Hoth with her stature and reputation and the irritating presence of a certain smuggler?

“I'm going to be direct again,” the pilot said in a low voice, leaning towards her slightly. His hand was warm on her arm, and Leia spared a moment of regret for the things she couldn't have.

“I'm really not that kind of girl,” she blurted, and then winced at how corny it sounded. “What I mean is-”

“I know who you are.” His cold, emotionless tone cut through her like a knife. His eyes met hers, all traces of friendliness gone. “And I know who you're here with.”

Leia jerked back, realizing too late that she was trapped against the wall. She thought about her blaster, but it was on her right side, and he was holding her right arm. She couldn't reach across her body with her left hand without him noticing.

“Don't try anything stupid,” he said as if sensing her thoughts. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

She didn't believe him for a second. “What do you want?”

“I want you to give Captain Solo a message for me.”

He adjusted his hold on her arm, twisting it just slightly, and for a breathless moment Leia thought he was going to break it. “A message?” she said when she could trust herself to talk. “From who?”

“I'll write it down for you,” he said, rubbing his thumb over the skin on the inside of her arm, just below her elbow. “Captain Solo might not recognize me, but he'll recognize this.” He produced a soft-tipped marker from his pocket and drew a curving line on her skin. It tickled, and Leia squirmed.

“Hold still,” he ordered, concentrating on his work.

“Why can't you give him the damn message yourself?” She said through gritted teeth. “Unless you're afraid of him.”

He looked up at her, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Like you, I don't like to waste my time. The price on Solo's head hasn't been high enough to make it worth my while, but my employer is getting impatient. Tell Captain Solo that if doesn't return to Tatooine immediately to pay off his debt to Jabba the Hutt, his days as a free man are limited.”

He blew gently on her skin to dry the ink, and she couldn't suppress a shiver. The image was upside down to Leia, but it looked like a skull with downward curving horns. “Don't let it smudge,” he warned her. “That wouldn't do Captain Solo any good.”

“You're a bounty hunter,” Leia said, infusing the word with as much disgust as possible.

“That's right, Your Highness.” He held her gaze, his eyes dark and cold. “The junkyards near the Mantellian Transit Service will have your thrusters, and for a much better price. Try the Bothans first. They're known to be Alliance friendly.”

She stared at him, wondering if he actually expected her to thank him after all that. He dropped her arm, seemingly indifferent as he put away the pen and took a step back. Leia pushed off the brick wall and took a careful step back towards the mouth of alley. He made no move to stop her.

She wanted to run, but forced herself instead to turn and walk briskly out into the street. Several blocks away, she ducked behind a street vender's stand and put her hand over her racing heart. It only reminded her of the mark on her arm. She shuddered, wanting to find the strongest possible cleaning solution and scrub the image off her skin. But she couldn't, not until she saw Han.

As soon as she was aboard the _Falcon_ she strode up to Han Solo and shoved him hard. “Why didn't you tell me you were in debt to a Hutt you stupid nerf-herder!”

“Hey, hey Princess,” The smuggler backed away, his hands raised. “What-” Then he caught sight of her arm and grabbed her wrist. “What the hell is this?”

She heard the edge in his voice, and it only confirmed what she already knew. “Some bounty hunter cornered me and told me to give you a message. If you don't pay off Jabba the Hutt he's coming after you, and then he _drew_ this on me. Who is he?”

Chewbacca growled deep in his throat, and Han nodded to his first mate. “Yeah. Me too.”

Leia grabbed the lapels of his vest, too rattled to bear the suspense. “Who. Is. He.”

Han looked at the mark on her arm again and grimaced “It's Boba Fett. He has the same symbol on his armor.”

She was no stranger to dangerous men or dangerous situations, but thought that she'd been sitting in a bar holding hands with Boba Fett made her feel physically ill. “I'm going to wash this off right now,” she vowed. “There have to be easier ways to send a message.”

“He's making a point,” Han replied grimly. “He knows who I'm with now.”

“What are you going to do?” Before he could answer, she rushed ahead. “He'll never find you on Hoth, if you stay hidden-”

“Yeah. We'll see.”

She didn't like his tone. If he went back to Tatooine now, he might never come back. Leia was aware of how gangsters like Jabba operated. Han could pay back the entire sum owed, but there would always be one more job, one last deal to make. Or Jabba might just decide to kill him as an example to all of the other sentients who owed him money. “Don't go back there,” she said. “It's not safe.”

He smiled that crooked grin that made her heart beat faster. “Easy Your Worship, I'll start to think you care.”

Leia looked away, her heart pounding again, but this time not from fear. “The Alliance needs you.”

“Hey,” he tipped up her chin with two fingers. “I'm not going anywhere right now.”

She looked into his eyes and nodded. For a second she thought he was going to kiss her, and she wanted him to. Then Chewie made an anxious noise and Han looked away, the spell broken. “I know pal, I know. We'll figure something out.”


	2. Bespin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation between adversaries.

 

**Bespin**

 

“He's no good to me dead.” 

Han Solo screams faded into the background as Boba Fett followed Darth Vader's exit from the interrogation chamber. 

“He will not be permanently damaged,” the Sith Lord replied, clearly unconcerned with the fact that he was wasting the bounty hunter's time. Fett watched Lando Calrissian sputter and protest his own part in this deal. Calrissian was lucky Vader was so distracted by the absence of Luke Skywalker among the _Millennium Falcon_ 's crew. 

Skywalker was a farm boy from Tatooine turned rebel pilot. Fett knew that much from researching Han Solo's known associates. Why he was of such particular interest to Vader was not apparent. If the Sith Lord had seen fit to specify that it wasn't the Millennium Falcon he wanted, but a specific person he believed to be on board, Fett could have avoided this delay, and regret never sat well with the bounty hunter. Neither did Vader's sudden enthusiasm for interrogating the prisoners. Solo was worth far more alive.

The Sith Lord walked into a second interrogation chamber where Leia Organa was strapped to a platform, and Fett followed him. The princess had been striped of her outer clothing, her pale limbs were exposed to the stormtroopers who were attaching sensors and injecting her with what was undoubtedly a nasty cocktail of truth serums and nerve sensitizers. In spite of all this, she glared at the Imperials surrounding her without a hint of fear or weakness.

“Captain Solo and Chewbacca the Wookiee,” she said, directing her words at Vader. “They don't know anything. They're of no use to you.”

“And what of you, Your Highness?” Darth Vader rumbled in response. “Are you of any use to me?”

She glared defiantly at him in silence.

“The hydroinfinite should take affect in few minutes, My Lord.” A stormtrooper reported. “Once the serum has entered her bloodstream she will be unable to lie” The troopers began to move away from her, and Fett saw a familiar shape on her bare arm. His crudely rendered mythosaur skull was still there, faded and bruise-like against her white skin.

“I will return shortly,” Darth Vader announced. “And we will continue our conversation.” He swept out, and the stormtroopers followed. None of them seemed to notice that the bounty hunter stayed behind, but the immobilized princess looked at him with open hostility, shifting uncomfortably against her bonds.

It was hard to see her as the same warm and flirtatious young woman who had smiled at him over a glass of harbing'rr on Ord Mantell. That was for the best, because she was a prisoner with a death sentence, and their acquaintance would soon be over. The thought reminded him of something, a loose end from their conversation before. “A Hutt walks into a bar on Ord Mantell,” he said, prompting a startled look from the princess. “And orders the strongest drink on the menu. The bartender fixes it for him, and after one sip, he falls over dead. What does the bartender say?”

She stared at him in silence for a moment, then shook her head. “It really was you. Han said it was, but I didn't really believe it.”

“Why not?”

She hesitated. “You're...You were nice.”

“Different mask for a different job,” he replied evenly, and motioned toward her arm. “The mark is still there,”

Leia Organa glanced down, a look of fury crossing her face. “Yes it is,” she snapped, “I don't know what the hell you used, but it doesn't come off. I've been scrubbing at it for weeks.”

“Do you want me to take it off?”

She stared at him incredulously. “You can take it off? Just like that?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” She said warily and squirmed again, her hands clenching and unclenching restlessly.

He did a quick scan on the room for monitoring devices, but found none. This wasn't exactly an Imperial-grade detention center. He set down his rifle and unlatched and removed his helmet, holding it in one hand while he loosened a gauntlet and pulled his glove off with his teeth. By now the princess was watching him with an expression of confusion and a little fear. 

Fett licked his thumb casually and rubbed the mark on her skin, amused by the way she gasped and tried to jerk away.

“You've got to be kidding me,” she said.

“It's Ubanese ink,” he told her. “Human saliva will dissolve it. Gungan oil also works.”

“I really didn't think to try licking it off,” she replied, still incredulous. 

“Might be faster.”

“Please don't,” she said through gritted teeth. “I don't suppose you have any of that Gungan Oil on you?”

“No. I could use your saliva, if you would prefer that.” He held up his thumb a few inches in front of her mouth. “You don't bite, do you?” 

Her face reddened, and she looked away. “Forget I said anything. Just...go back to the way you were doing it.”

“As you wish.” There was an long silence while he scrubbed at the mark with his fingers, and then the princess spoke again. 

“Why are you here?” She burst out, “Why did Vader bring you into this?”

“Vader didn't.” He wet his fingers again and removed the last of the ink from her skin. “Cutting the engines and hitching a ride is a trick older than yourself, Your Highness. Good enough to fool Imperials. Not good enough to fool me.”

“ _You_ found us.” She frowned thoughtfully at this revelation. “Then why did you bring Vader into it?”

“He offered a substantial reward for the _Millennium Falcon_ and crew. This way was more profitable.” His jaw tightened reflectively. “But not faster.” 

There were sterilizing cloths on a table with the syringes, and Fett picked one up and wiped down her arm thoroughly. She seemed almost about to say something, then changed her mind, only to change it again a few seconds later. “Thank you,” she said stiffly. 

Fett nodded. “I've answered your questions, Princess. Perhaps you'll answer one of mine.”

“Perhaps.”

“Why is Vader so interested in Luke Skywalker?”

Leia Organa looked troubled by this. “Luke?” She gave it some thought, then shook her head. “To be honest-” she stopped and smiled ruefully, her gaze flicking to the syringes. “I don't know.”

“But you have some idea.”

“Luke was recruited by General Kenobi. Vader killed him, but maybe he thinks Luke knows something or-” She shook her head. “I don't really know.”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi?” 

There was a name the bounty hunter hadn't heard in years. A name that conjured up the scent of rain, and the sound of a door chiming. _Hello, Boba. Is your father home?_

“You knew him?” Leia asked curiously, her eyes fixed on his face.

Fett reached for his helmet. “We met once,” he said before he replaced it. “Did Skywalker ever say how he met General Kenobi?”

She shook her head slowly. “Luke's a sweet kid,” she said, ironically, considering they were probably close in age. “He's a good pilot but it's kind of hard to imagine him knowing anything important.”

The bounty hunter pulled his glove back on as he considered this. If she was hiding something, she was doing a damn fine job of it. His helmet's comm was patched into the Imperial frequency, and he heard a series of coded commands given. “Darth Vader is on his way back down here,” he told the princess. 

Leia Organa lifted her chin bravely. “Take it from me, Fett, when you make a deal with Darth Vader you always end up getting the short end of it. He'll kill Han unless you get him out of here, and you won't make a chit off him.”

“It's possible,” he replied, amused by her attempt to manipulate him. “But one way or another, Captain Solo's time is up. If you manage to escape execution, you should find better friends.”

“If I escape,” she returned fiercely. “I'm going to save Han. So if you take him to Tatooine, you'd better be looking over your shoulder every step of the way, because I'll be right behind you.”

Her pupils, he noticed, we extremely dilated and he wondered how much of this was the drugs talking. The door hissed open and Darth Vader strode in with two stormtroopers. Fett could feel his displeasure like a sudden chill in the air. “What are you doing in here, Bounty Hunter?”

“Killing time,” he replied pointedly. “Am I cleared to leave with Solo?”

“That depends.” Vader turned his impassive mask toward Leia. “Are you prepared to cooperate, Your Highness?”

“That also depends,” she said, and Fett found himself admiring her composure. He knew from experience that the dark lord's full attention felt like a stabbing headache. “What do you want from me?” She demanded. 

Darth Vader took a step closer, looming over her like a black shadow. “Where is Luke Skywalker?”

The princess' gaze didn't waver. “If I tell you, you'll let Han and Chewie go?”

It was a bold gambit, but one that couldn't pay off. At least he thought so. Listening to Darth Vader's rasping breathing in the silence of the room, the bounty hunter suddenly wasn't so sure.

“I will release them into Calrissian's custody,” Vader said slowly, a mirror of the lie he'd told Lando Calrissian earlier. “But if they leave this city...their safety is forfeit.”

Fett kept a tight reign on his anger, knowing the Sith could sense it. Even if the Sith Lord's promise meant nothing more than waiting until the princess gave up Skywalker's location, it was still another delay. And Leia Organa was undoubtedly aware that Vader's offer was useless, this was merely a stalling tactic to give her friends a chance to escape.

“My Lord,” Fett said. “She has no knowledge of Skywalker's whereabouts. She told me so a few minutes ago.”

Now Vader's attention was on him. Leia gaped at him, her shock quickly turning to anger as she realized what he was up to. “I said no such thing!” She exclaimed, so outraged that it seemed to confirm his hunch. She really didn't know where the young pilot was.

“Ask her,” Fett told Vader flatly. “It has to be a direct question. She's good at working around the hydroinfinte.”

“I am fully aware of her capabilities,” the Sith Lord intoned, and Fett could sense his annoyance. “And I am capable of questioning my prisoners.”

“I was just trying to use my time productively. Until I can leave with _my_ prisoner.”

Darth Vader turned back to Leia, who shifted in an agitation. “I never told him-”

“Do you,” Vader said, his voice even deeper and more ominous, “know where Luke Skywalker is?”

“I can't-” A trickle of sweat ran down the side of her face. “I have information, let Han and Chewie go and I'll-”

“Do you know where Luke Skywalker is?” Vader repeated, his gloved hand closing into a fist. Boba Fett almost felt sympathy for the princess, but such feelings were useless. She looked him with cold, unmistakeable fury in her eyes. 

“Right behind you, Fett,” she said through her teeth. “Every step of the way.”

He found that highly unlikely, but the thought didn't give him much satisfaction. Darth Vader turned toward the stormtroopers. “Find her some clothing and take her back to the cell with the others. I will send word when it is time to bring them to the carbon freezing chamber.”

Carbon freezing? The bounty hunter's sense of accomplishment was short lived as he picked up his rifle and followed Darth Vader into the hallway. He didn't like the sound of this at all. 

 


	3. Tatooine Part I

 

**Tatooine, Part I**

* * *

 

Time slowed to a crawl, and all of the noise in Jabba's throne room faded into a faint, humming blur. Leia didn't look around to see who was fleeing and who was preparing to fight. If there was noise, she couldn't hear it.

She heard, first and foremost, the shrieking alarm of the thermal detonator in her hand, interspersed with her own pounding heart.

A second passed like an eternity, than another. Under her stifling disguise, a trickle of sweat ran down the back of her neck.

Jabba the Hutt began to laugh.

“This bounty hunter is my kind of scum,” the ganglord chortled. “Fearless and inventive.”

Her hand was beginning to cramp, but Leia forced herself to hold while C-3P0 translated the Hutt's counter offer. As far as Jabba knew, she was an Ubanese bounty hunter named Boushh who didn't speak or understand Huttese.

“Jabba offers you the sum of thirty-five thousand,” the droid squeaked. “And I do suggest you take it.”

Her thumb eased back the detonator's pin. This part of the plan had been Lando's idea, and one that Leia hadn't fully understood until this moment. Obviously they needed a way to get Chewie in, but why draw attention to herself? Why not try to blend in?

“Zeebuss,” she hissed through her helmet's voice modifier, and as Threepio joyfully translated her agreement, the room erupted into raucous cheers.

Maybe Lando had a point. By doing something compulsively greedy and reckless, this _was_ blending in. She looked around the throne room at the appreciative audience, and then her gaze fell on Boba Fett. His gloved hands were crossed over his rifle, his t-shaped visor aimed directly at her.

“Right behind you,” she said under her breath.

His helmet tilted forward in a slow, deliberate nod and Leia's heart stopped beating in a moment of blind paranoia. There was no way he could have heard her across this noisy chamber, and no way he could know who she really was. Fett was cunning and resourceful, but the chase was at an end now.

The nod was a gesture between two hunters, she reasoned. An acknowledgment, maybe even a little “I've got my eye on you, buddy” antagonism. Even if he suspected something, he couldn't really _know_. She took a deep, steadying breath and turned away. The adrenaline she'd felt while bargaining with Jabba was wearing off, and a shiver ran up her back. Suddenly she had a bad feeling about this.

 

* * *

 

“Get your hands off of me!” Leia struggled fiercely but the Gammorean guards hauled her forward, causing her stumble on the rough stone floor. They caught her roughly as she fell, jerking her back to her feet and grunting as they dragged her down a dark corridor. In the distance, Leia could still hear the throne room's clamor, the celebration of her capture was still going full swing.

She'd known it was a possibility, of course, but she'd expected to be taken to a dungeon cell like Chewbacca and Han. Instead, she was marched to what she could only assume was a harem, populated by young, attractive dancers and slaves. She was stripped of the remainder of her disguise, fitted with a cold metal collar around her throat and forced to put on some humiliating scraps of cloth and metal that barely passed for clothing.

Sometime while they were doing her hair and make up, the red-eyed Twi'lik who served as Jabba's majordomo came in and whispered something to the harem mistress. She looked Leia over with hard, speculative eyes.

“Tonight?” she said in Huttese, and the Twi'lik confirmed it. “He'll have a fight on his hands,” she replied, but she seemed more intrigued then displeased. “Send me two guards. I'll have her delivered to his chamber.”

She'd grasped Leia's chin, her long nails digging into her flesh. This time she spoke in Basic. “Something to keep in mind, little Princess. Master Jabba's last pet fought, and she was fed the rancor.” Leia jerked her chin away rebelliously, but the harem mistress only smiled, her voice soft and sinister. “Tomorrow morning they will bring you back here to be examined. If you've failed to please him, I will inform Master Jabba. Take my advice. Do not fight.”

Leia fought the guards every step of the way. They had to grab her by her arms, half dragging and half carrying her to their destination.

When they stopped outside of a door at the far end of the hall, she almost broke free, but one of the Gamorreans wrapped his thick arms around her and flung her into the room. It was a guest chamber with a large bed, garishly decorated. The guards took the chain attached to her slave collar and locked it to a metal ring mounted in the bed frame, leaving her with less than three feet of slack.

They left her, red-faced and breathing hard. As soon as the door shut behind them she looked around, forcing herself to assess her surroundings. This was _someone's_ room, someone who had been given her body to do with as he pleased. Panic seized her throat, but she fought it back again. She had to stay calm. She had to come up with a plan.

She sat on the edge of the bed with as much dignity as she could muster in her skimpy slave girl costume and tested the chain first, then the metal ring. Solid chain, solid ring. Damn it. She ran her hands over every part of the bed that she could reach, but found nothing that could help her. The bed was constructed out of wood and bone, with little carvings winding their way down the posts. Leia realized the carving under her right hand depicted two banthas mating and pulled her hand away.

There was no indication of the room's owner, no clothing or personal items laying around. There was a table across the room with a battered durasteel under it, at odds with the lavish décor. She craned her neck and leaned across the bed, but she could see nothing of note through the open 'fresher door. Her eyes returned to the durasteel case, the sort of thing she would expect weapons or armor to be stored in.

It hit her then that she knew exactly who's room this was. Jabba might be corpulent, lecherous slug, but he was not without his own sick sense of humor.

At that moment, the door hissed open. Leia sat up quickly and smiled grimly at Boba Fett. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

“You should have taken my advice,” the bounty hunter said as he shut the door behind him.“I told you to find better friends.”

“And I told you I was coming after you,” she reminded him. “I realize loyalty is a foreign concept to someone like you, but I would never abandon Han.”

“Because you _love_ him.”

Even through his helmet, she could hear the sneer in his voice. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“I believe you. I've heard you say it twice now.” He removed his helmet as he spoke. “Was the plan really to have you strut in here with a thermal detonator and then slip out quietly with one of Jabba's most prized possessions?”

Leia stuck her chin out. “I don't have to explain my actions to you.”

He walked over and tested the collar's chain, much as she had a few minutes earlier. “Hold still.” He took a small object from his belt and held it level with her neck. The device chirped immediately and the collar snapped open, clanging loudly against the bed's frame as it fell. “Do you know what Jabba is going to do to you?”

Her stomach twisted uncomfortably. “I don't plan to stay long enough to find out.”

“Someone's going to come blasting in to save the Princess?” When she didn't respond, the bounty hunter continued with visible disgust. “You and Solo are perfectly matched. A pair of reckless, delusional fools.”

“And what are you?” Leia hissed furiously. “A boot-licking lackey for scum like Vader and Jabba. You'll never be half the man Han Solo is.”

“Are you hungry?”

Leia stared at him for a moment, confused by his lack of response.“A little.” She watched warily as he crossed the room and opened a wall compartment above the table, revealing a neat stack of ration bars. Boba Fett was the last sentient in the galaxy she wanted to spend any time with, but in a strange way, she was relieved to be in his quarters. He was the devil she knew, and in this case, the devil she felt reasonably sure wouldn't rape her.

He could have tried something before. In the interrogation chamber on Bespin, or in that deserted back alley on Ord Mantell. Maybe those situations weren't quite as accommodating to rape as her current one, but surely she would have seen something before, some warning sign, some glimpse of darkness.

She took the ration bar he handed her, and watched as he tore open the wrapper of a second one with his teeth and bit into it. After all this time, chasing the hunter, the legend that was Boba Fett, it was somehow strange to see him doing something human and normal like eating. How could she possibly judge a man's character based a few chance encounters and the fact that he was willing to share his food? She couldn't, she decided. She could only do what she felt she must, and retain whatever control she had left over her fate.

“Look,” she said, amazed at how calm she sounded. “You like to be direct. I like to be direct. Can just get this over with?”

“Get what over with?” He asked before he took another bite.

Leia fought the blush in her cheeks. “You know what,” she replied sharply. “I was sent here as a gift. A reward from Jabba.”

He stopped chewing for a second, but Leia couldn't read his expression. “If Jabba wants to reward me, my preference is credits. I don't force myself on slave girls.” He finished his food and took a long drink from a canteen while Leia frowned down at the ration bar in her hand.

“I didn't think you did,” she said slowly. “But it's not that simple. I was told...I have to. If I don't have sex with you, Jabba will kill me.”

Fett sat down in a chair across the room and stretched out his legs, resting his rifle on them. “He probably won't kill you,” he said in a disinterested monotone. “At least not until he's had his fun with you.”

“You really don't have a shred of compassion in you, do you?”

“I don't waste compassion on people who blunder into situations they could have easily avoided.”

He was so infuriatingly calm, Leia wanted to slap him. “It's just sex,” she snapped. “A few minutes of your time. Maybe less.”

He gave her a look that was colder than Hoth. “I suggest you make use of the bed, rest while you can, and eat something. Jabba doesn't always remember to feed his pets.”

The ration bar was crushed when she closed her hand into a fist. She'd come this far, to fail now was unthinkable. Even if Jabba didn't kill her, she was useless to her friends if she was beaten half to death, or constantly in danger of being raped. She was here to rescue Han, and she would do anything to save him. Anything except be the victim of Jabba the Hutt, or the next slimeball he passed her off to.

“At least tell me why,” she said through gritted teeth. “The outfit doesn't do it for you?”

He met her eyes for a moment, then let his gaze drop deliberately over her barely covered body. “No,” he said. “It's not the outfit.”

Even though he said it without any discernible expression, Leia's pulse skyrocketed in response. She wasn't imaging the sudden charge in the air, or the flicker of heat in his eyes. She should take use this moment to her advantage, but her mouth was suddenly dry, and before she could speak Fett shifted in his chair and laid his rifle on the table next to his helmet. “Put your collar back on,” he ordered as he began to remove the rocket launcher mounted to his armored bracer.

“What?” Leia said, caught off guard. “Why?”

“Because I'm tired,” he replied, and for the first time she heard an edge in his voice. “You don't have to sleep, but as long as you're chained to the bed, maybe I can.”

Leia looked around, but saw only the bed, two hard-looking chairs and the floor. “Where are you going to sleep?” She asked incredulously.

“I'll manage.” Fett stood abruptly and began to remove some of the heavier pieces of his armor, packing it into the durasteel case on the floor. When he straightened, his eyes went to the collar still laying on the floor. “Put it back on.”

He meant it, that much was obvious. Leia looked at the collar on the floor, and the short length of chain that symbolized defeat. “I'm not really good at this,” she said with a last-ditch effort at honesty. “But I think we've established that it's not the attire you find unattractive, or women in general. What is it about _me_ you don't like?”

Fett walked over and picked up the collar himself. “I don't like the idea of you grudgingly spreading your legs and thinking about some worthless smuggler.”

Leia jumped to her feet and moved away, trying to avoid being tethered again. “You really think you're so much better than him,” she snapped. “Your delusion is pathetic. At least Han doesn't sell his services to the highest bidder!”

“Captain Solo did _exactly_ that, for years before you made him a rebel hero.” The bounty hunter caught her arm and yanked her back, and she bounced off his chest with small, frustrated cry. “Jabba pays dozens of spice runners like him so he can keep his palace and his pretty slave girls. And when they try to cheat him and run, Jabba pays me to find them. I know who I am and what I do,” Fett told her flatly. “But I also know men like Han Solo. I know them much better than you ever will.”

It was as good a chance as she would get. Leia pulled his head down and kissed him hard, a move he was not expecting, given the way he jerked and his hand tightened painfully on her arm. At first it was like kissing a stone statue, and then his position suddenly reversed and he was crushing her mouth with a force that bent her slight body backwards.

When he let go, she almost fell backwards onto the bed. There was anger in his dark eyes, anger and something infinitely more unnerving. “Enough?” He demanded, and her anger rose just as strong and swift.

“I'll let you know,” she said, and kissed him again, with almost as much teeth as tongue. She could feel it the moment he gave in, the moment his hands tightened on her bare back, pulling her closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck and they fell together to the bed.

There was a little rolling around, and a few more hard, hungry kisses. He found the clasps in seconds, and the slave girl outfit fell away. His clothing was far more resistant. Fett eventually grew impatient with her ineffective hands and pinned her down beneath him, his hands on her wrists. “Stay,” he growled. The look in his eyes dared her to do otherwise.

She swallowed, watching as he got rid of the rest of his clothes and then bent down toward her again, all lean muscle and tan skin. Her eyes trailed over his smooth chest and flat stomach. He didn't have a lot of body hair, apart from a neat line of fine dark hair that ran down from his navel to his groin.

She didn't want to look, but she couldn't resist. His cock was larger than she expected, and responding very enthusiastically. Something kicked up in her stomach, some primal combination of nervousness and excitement.

His hand settled possessively over her breasts, his expression one of intense absorption as he ran his fingers over her nipples. He ducked his head down and ran his tongue over one of them. His mouth was warm but the moment his tongue passed her wet skin puckered with gooseflesh.

She was almost relieved when his mouth returned, sucking lightly on her aching nipple. Heat flooded her body and Leia jerked, pushing at his shoulders, her nails digging into hard, unyielding muscle. “Don't,” she said, hating that it sounded like she was begging. In spite of her best efforts, the anger and the urgency was pushing her towards the edge. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, and she couldn't control the way her body was trembling.

Her only consolation was that Fett was hardly in better shape. He put his hands on her legs, and she could feel the tension in them, the vibration. She didn't need to look at his face. It was written in every hard line of his body, just how badly he wanted her.

He spread her legs apart, his body aligning to hers. There was something shocking about the intimacy of his cock pressed against her wet entrance, and the full significance of what she was about to do hit her. If she couldn't do this, she had to say something now, before it was too late.

And then it was too late. As big as he'd looked, he'd felt ten times bigger now, a painful reminder that she'd had nothing bigger that her own fingers inside her for a very long time. It hurt, but she didn't cry out. Instead she watched his face, reassured to see his usual mask of indifference slip.

He looked like a man who had jumped off a cliff and was only now realizing how far he had to fall. Then he took a quick, halting breath and the moment was gone. He moved, pulling back and then driving in all the way to her cervix. The contact hit like an electric shock, and a sharp gasp caught in her throat. She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him roughly, biting down on his lower lip and feeling his body press eagerly against hers. Her legs wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him tight so he couldn't thrust as deeply.

There. She could handle this. It was easier now, even pleasurable as he rocked relentlessly into her. It was all about motion now. Motion and friction, a little heat, a little rhythm.

Eventually Fett buried his face in the curve of her neck and lost it with an harsh gasp. Then they were both still, breathing sweat and sex while the euphoria subsided. Leia slowly loosened her legs from around his waist, not sure what to say. She felt an exhalation of hot breath on her neck and then Fett muttered a sharp curse against her skin. She wasn't sure exactly what it meant, but it was definitely not complimentary.

“Excuse me?”

“It wasn't directed at you.” He shifted, lifting himself up. “Can I get you anything? Water?”

“No, thank you.”

The bounty hunter nodded once and abandoned her for the 'fresher without another word. Leia turned to her side, still trembling a little as the adrenaline wore off. She spared a moment to wonder if she should feel cheap, or used, or even guilty. But the truth was, all she felt was tired. She tugged the sheet up to cover her naked body, and her eyes closed, a long blink that somehow became a doze. The sharp clink of chains woke her, and she lifted her head as Fett retrieved the slave's collar. “Wait,” she said, her mind still a little fuzzy as she edged away from him. “You don't need that.”

He watched her retreat impassively. “I could tie you to the bed, if you would prefer that.”

“I would not,” Leia replied testily. “I just want to sleep. Can't we call a truce?”

Fett didn't appear to be convinced. Trying to demonstrate her non-violent intentions, she laid down again with her back to him and held her breath. After a moment, he dropped the collar and the mattress sank under his weight. He leaned over her, his voice low and threatening. “Try to leave this bed-”

“Oh for the Force's sake,” Leia snapped crossly. “What am I going do, smother you with a pillow?”

There was a pause, then he unceremoniously jerked the pillow out from under her head. “Hey!” She twisted around to see him drop both pillows on the floor. “You bastard!”

“Your idea,” he reminded her. “Not mine.” Then he dropped down beside her and laid his arm across her waist. Leia knew he was not trying to cuddle, but the mock embrace was still better than being tied down. At some point she closed her eyes, and exhaustion finally claimed her.

Some time later she heard music, faint warbling sounds and she frowned, hoping it would go away. When it didn't, she stirred, surrounded by a man's body heat and scent. Her brain slowly replaced sleeping thoughts with waking ones, and Leia heard the music again. “That damn band,” she groaned. “Don't they know any other songs?”

“They do,” Fett replied, his voice rough from sleep. “But that song is Jabba's favorite.”

“Oh, great.”

“They're warming up. He won't be awake for at least another hour.”

“Oh,” she repeated, her voice softer. It seemed like she'd just closed her eyes a few minutes ago, but she must have slept for hours. They both had, and now he was warm and hard against her back, and it was distracting her. This wasn't her usual means of forging alliances, but as long as the bounty hunter was interested, maybe he could be persuaded to keep the other minions away from her. It was highly unlikely she'd have to sleep with him again, but if Luke's arrival was delayed for any reason...

She was startled out of her reverie when Fett pulled her closer, pressing his body against hers and moving his hand up to cup her breast. “Oh,” she said for the third time, this time with surprise as her body responded. Sooner or later she was going to have to face the fact that her taste in men seemed to rapidly devolving. Nice men just didn't do it for her anymore.

The bounty hunter pressed a kiss into the nape of her neck, and Leia tensed, caught in a moment of indecision. Fett drew back slightly, picking up on her mood. “You can move away, Princess. I won't stop you.”

She took a breath and tried to compose herself. “Could you please stop calling me that? My royal title isn't worth spit these days.”

“How would you like to be addressed?”

“Just call me 'Leia.”

“Leia,” he repeated in a low, raspy voice, and she tried not to think about Han cocking his head to one side and grinning when he said her name for the first time. Soon she would be gone from this place, and Han too, and the past wouldn't matter because the future would be that damn bright.

“Staying or going?” Fett queried, his finger tracing a line down her stomach. Leia tried to ignore the shiver that followed the motion.

“Am I allowed to the leave the bed now?”

“Yes.”

Leia put her hand over his, halting his progress but keeping it trapped against her belly. She turned over onto her back so she could see him. “Going. For now. I really need to use the 'fresher.”

“Then you'll come back?” His tone of voice suggested complete indifference, but his eyes were focused sharply on her face.

“That depends.” Leia thought about trying to say something seductive, but didn't think she could pull it off. “How does this work? Do you return me, or will Jabba send guards to bring me back?”

“He'll send guards.”

The confidence in his words made her pause. “Do you...do this a lot?”

He shook his head, and then his hand moved impatiently under hers. “You never answered my question.”

“If you asked Jabba, would he let you have me again tonight?”

Fett immediately pulled his hand away. “I thought you weren't sticking around.”

“I don't know how long I'll be here,” she said cautiously. “And I don't want to be given to anyone else. If you tell him you want me again, then I'm all yours, right? No one one else touches me.”

“You catch on fast,” he replied, but there was a definite wariness in his eyes.

Leia shrugged and tried to look innocent. “It's a gangster's den, not the Galactic Senate. Will you do it?”

“What's in it for me?”

“That's sort of obvious, isn't it?” She replied tightly, her face flushed. It never occurred to her that the implication of sex wouldn't be enough to motivate him.

“I want information,” he replied flatly.

“That's not a euphemism, is it?” She tried to smile, but her attempt at levity fell flat. He was very serious. “What do you want to know?”

“This 'plan' of yours to rescue Solo. What happens next?”

Leia's pulse quickened, but she met his gaze head on. “I think it's customary in your business to provide service before payment, isn't it?”

To her surprise, his mouth curved into a tight smile. “Let's call it half up front.”

“That really _should_ be a euphemism,” she retorted. “I wasn't born yesterday, Fett. Talk to Jabba, make him understand that I'm only for you, and I'll tell you what comes next.”

He regarded her silently for a moment, then gave a single nod. Leia tried to hide her relief by sitting up, fighting the urge to gather the sheet around her. Modesty was a little pointless now. The door chimed, a surprisingly tranquil tone that still startled her. The bounty hunter sat up as well, and jerked his head in the direction of the 'fresher. “Go. They'll wait.”

Leia's return to the harem was an ceremonious occasion, if such a term could be used for barbaric assault. The other slaves and dancers gathered around with the hush of racing fans watching the finish line while a med droid gave her a humiliatingly public examination. The harem mistress stood over the droid watching, and when she announced the verdict, the room erupted into curses and cheers. There so many conversations in Huttese happening around her, Leia could only gather that some of them were delighted, some of them were angry, and some were just plain shocked.

She was hustled off to be bathed and dressed in the same fashion as before. By the time she was returned to Jabba, his throne room was full of minions and musicians, only slightly less raucous than it had been the night before.

Boba Fett was standing next to Jabba, and she heard Fett speaking Huttese as she was brought closer. “She's undernourished. Wouldn't bring more than that at an auction.”

“She's royalty,” Jabba replied. “That ups the price. And she doesn't need to be strong for what you want her for.”

“Her title isn't worth spit,” the bounty hunter returned. “I'm not as rich as you. I can't afford to keep a pleasure slave who can't earn her keep in other ways.”

Bib Fortuna handed off Leia's chain to Jabba, and he tugged her closer. “Fett, my boy, you have to think creatively.” The Hutt swiped at Leia's midsection, and she grimaced and twisted away. “She's young and healthy. You can breed her many times and sell her children.”

She didn't want Jabba to know she understood Huttese, but it was a struggle to keep her horrified reaction off her face. The big slug jerked on her chain, pulling her closer. “Droid, translate this for my little pet Princess.”

“Yes, Your Excellency,” C-3P0 said meekly. Leia forced herself to listen to his translation and not Jabba's words. “You have pleased the great Boba Fett, and in doing so, pleased your master, the Almighty Jabba. His excellency regrets that he has not had the opportunity to...know you better, and will correct that shortly. For now, he wants to watch.” The droid paused, stumbling over the translation. “As you thank Boba Fett for his hospitality. You will kneel now.”

Jabba yanked the chain hard and Leia stumbled, looking around the throne room in disbelief as the onlookers pressed closer. She couldn't really do this, could she? Bib Fortuna shoved her, and she went to her knees, staring helplessly as Fett walked up to her, grabbed her chin and forced two gloved fingers down her throat.

Leia gagged and bit him on reflex, and he drew back his hand and smacked her hard enough to snap her head to one side. It stung, but she was sure he could have hit her much harder.

The bounty hunter flexed his injured hand. “I'm not sticking anything else in her mouth,” he told Jabba. “And I won't pay any more for a skinny little nexu like her. Take it or leave it.”

A few of the audience members groaned in disappointment. The Hutt glared at Leia. “She needs a lot of training, but I have to keep her until Captain Solo regains his sight. His little Princess is going please my entire court, and I'm going to make that piece of bantha fodder watch.”

Leia thought she might have stopped breathing. She wouldn't be here long enough for Jabba's twisted fantasy to become a reality, but the thought alone was nauseating. Fett said nothing in response, and after a moment Jabba spoke again. “But since you like her so much, Fett, my boy, she's yours while you're here. Day and night.”

“A generous offer,” the bounty hunter nodded. “I accept.”

“You must be eager to make her pay for biting you,” Jabba extended his tongue lustfully. “I could loan you a whip, if you want.”

“No, thank you.” His helmet tilted down toward her. “I have other ways to deal with her.”

 


	4. Tatooine Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the situation growing steadily out of control, Fett makes a decision.

 

**Tatooine, Part II**

 

Boba Fett flexed his hand and felt the sting of punctured skin on his fingers, a testimony to the strength of her jaw and the sharpness of her teeth. They were back in his quarters now, the door shut and locked behind them. Inside of his helmet, he activated the security sensors he'd hidden in the room to make sure no one had invaded his privacy or tried to plant bugs of their own. The room was untouched. Someone was finally programming the cleaning droids correctly, perhaps because they were tired of replacing them. 

“I was starting to worry for a moment there,” Leia said. “But that was pretty clever, to make Jabba think it was his idea.”

“It's never wise to let a Hutt know what you really want.” Fett stripped his glove off and examined the damage. “You broke skin.”

She crossed her arms, her posture defensive. “You startled me.”

“How's your face?” he asked. “Hurt?” 

“Not much,” she looked at him and shrugged. “It worked. I'm not complaining.”

Fett unlocked his case and removed a medkit. “I do many things for Jabba, but I don't perform sex acts for his amusement.” He smeared antiseptic gel across the bite marks on his fingers and replaced his glove.

“It must be nice to that option,” she muttered, tugging on the metal collar around her throat. “Do you think he'll really...” She couldn't seem to bring herself to finish the sentence. “When Han can see again?”

The bounty hunter took his time answering. She was smart enough to hide the fact that she understood Huttese, but not smart enough to hide her relationship with Captain Solo. Jabba wanted revenge on the arrogant smuggler, and he was not above making the princess pay for every ounce of spice Solo cost him. “He might.” Leia looked vaguely nauseated, but she didn't say anything in response. “Unless Solo succumbs to hibernation sickness first,” Fett offered. “If he dies, your value significantly decreases.”

That didn't appear to reassure her. “You wouldn't actually buy me, would you?”

“Not for the price Jabba's asking.”

“That's not funny,” she replied coldly. 

He turned the medkit toward her. “There's a coldpack in there and some painkillers.”

“I'm fine,” Leia said absently, then looked up, startled, when he took a purposeful step toward her.

“You owe me information.”

She held her ground, her spine straight. “Luke's coming next. He's going to negotiate our release.”

“With what?” Fett demanded. “More droids?”

She gave him a sweet smile that didn't touch her dark eyes. “You asked me to tell you what comes next, and I did. You can't change the terms of the deal now.”

Hidden behind his helmet, Fett glared at her in silent frustration. The information was never the point. He should be gone, blasting off Tatooine with Jabba's credits in his account. Instead he was standing here and thinking about the exact location of every clasp holding on that ridiculous outfit. She wasn't so cold when she was naked and gasping under him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes growing wide as he plowed into her tight little twat. 

He should have thrown her out of his room the moment he walked in. Jabba occasionally found it amusing to send him company, females of every shape, size, race and species, as if he were determined to find out Fett's type through random selection. Some tried to seduce him, others were plainly terrified of him. If they were willing to be quiet and leave him alone, they could stay.

Leia Organa was not quiet, nor did she leave him alone. 

Fett suspected it wasn't really complicated. Her success was the result of his own failure, first to admit his attraction and second to control his emotions. She made him angry and he wanted her. He still wanted her. And she still made him angry, but not as angry as he was at himself for getting into this mess. He couldn't help her, and he couldn't abandon her. He could only stall, and wait for something to change. 

“I'm going back to the throne room,” he told her, wanting to be away from her and away from the unmade bed that seemed to be constantly in his peripheral vision. 

Leia quickly put herself between him and door. “I want to come with you.” The chain hanging from her collar was wrapped around her own fist, and she held it out to him. When he started to brush past her she moved again, pressing her back against the door. “Won't Jabba be insulted if you toss his gift aside so soon?” She said insistently, offering the chain again. Fett successfully resisted the impulse to open the door and let her fall on her ass into the hall. He should chain her to the headboard while he was gone. She would put up a fight, but he could have on her the bed in seconds. The problem was that even the thought of her sprawled out on the bed, flushed and furious, sent heat rushing through his veins. A wrestling match was not in his best interests at the moment.

“Stay close, don't talk to anyone,” he ordered. “And wipe that smile off your face.”

The throne room was quiet at this time of the day. Jabba was taking his post-breakfast nap, and many of the other courtiers were sleeping as well. The bounty hunter's favorite alcove was vacant, the one that gave him the best view of the audience chamber. He could see Leia clearly in the 360-display of his helmet. She let herself be led by the chain, but her was body tense and ready. She kept looking in the direction of one of the guards.

It was one of the human ones, a dark-skinned male in a raider's helmet, and he seemed to be watching the princess very closely. He was new, wasn't he? Fett turned when they reached the alcove to get a better look at the man, but a scuffling noise at the entrance drew his attention. 

He only saw a glimpse of a hooded figure, but all the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he reached back for his rifle. Bib Fortuna came rushing through the arch and down the stairs. 

“At last,” the golden protocol droid exclaimed, telling Fett what he didn't need to be told. “Master Luke's come to rescue me!” 

“I told you not to admit him,” Jabba snarled in Huttese, not happy to have been woken. 

“I must be allowed to speak,” Luke Skywalker said quietly.

“He must be allowed to speak,” Bib Fortuna echoed blankly.

“You weak-minded fool,” The Hutt ranted. “He's using an old Jedi mind trick!”

Skywalker's eyes scanned the room, settling briefly on Leia before he stepped forward and fixed his gaze intently on Jabba. “I'm taking Captain Solo and his friends. You can profit by this...or be destroyed. But I warn you not to underestimate my powers.”

Leia leaned forward, and Fett tugged warningly on her chain. 

“There will be no bargain, Young Jedi! I will enjoy watching you die!”

Fett was already in motion as Skywalker Force-pulled one of the guard's blasters to his waiting hand. No sign of a lightsaber yet, but it was only a matter of time. He took aim, but before his finger could squeeze the trigger, Leia slammed into him with enough force to knock him backwards into the wall. She snatched up the chain and ran for the center of the room, dodging around the cowardly minions trying to escape the chaos. Fett pushed off the wall and regained his balance, cursing silently. He swallowed his anger and lifted his arm, taking careful aim.

“Bascka!” Jabba shouted and the trap door fell open, dropping Skywalker and an unlucky guard down into the rancor's den. Leia was only a few steps away from the opening when the fibercord whip wrapped around her legs and she went down fast, her outstretched hands barely breaking her fall. There was a roar of appreciative laughter as Fett began to retract the cord, dragging her backwards across the stone floor. “Luke!” She strained and kicked, trying to free her legs, but the cord was tight. Jabba watched with great appreciation as the bounty hunter grabbed her roughly by the metal collar and pulled her to her feet. 

“Bring her over here,” The Hutt roared. “She should watch the Jedi die.” 

Fett pulled her so close that his helmet was almost touching her cheek. “Don't,” he ground out, low enough for her ears alone. “Do that again.” He dragged her to the edge of Jabba's dais, holding her in front of him with one arm locked tightly around her waist. 

She was leaning forward and twisting around so much that his own view of the den was obstructed. He heard the frantic squeal of the gamorrean guard, cut off abruptly and replaced by the sound of bones crunching in the rancor's mouth. Leia flinched, turning her head away while the crowd cheered. It didn't matter that the guard was one of their own moments ago, the scent of blood was in the air and the frenzy was on.

The bounty hunter had personally witnessed a spilled drink escalate into a bloody brawl in this throne room. Give Jabba one prisoner to execute, and it could rapidly become a series of gladiatorial death matches. Fett looked at Jabba's yellow eyes, glowing with bloodlust, and his concern grew. Leia shouldn't have drawn attention to herself. What if the Jedi died too quickly and Jabba told him to throw the princess in?

No. She was a shiny new toy, and Jabba wouldn't waste her life, not before he had his chance to use her to torment Captain Solo. As long as the Jedi died fighting and the smuggler remained in the dungeons, Leia was fairly safe.

There was a rusty squeal from below, and crashing thud. Leia gave a faint cry and sagged against his arm, and he thought it must be over now. Skywalker was dead, and they were containing the rancor. But when he looked, he saw something else entirely, something he did not expect to see. The rancor was dead, it's neck crushed beneath the heavy inner gate, and the dark-clad Jedi was still standing.

This was not good.

“Bring me Solo and the Wookie,” Jabba bellowed. “They will suffer for this outrage!” 

The audience quickly turned from raucous to malicious, jeering as Skywalker was dragged into the throne room along with Captain Solo and his Wookiee first mate. Fett's grip tightened on Leia tightened. 

“Together again,” the smuggler quipped as they dragged him forward. “How are we doing?”

“Same as always,” Skywalker responded.

“That bad, huh? Where's Leia?”

“I'm here,” she said in a choked voice. Solo turned his head toward her, but it was clear from his blank expression that he couldn't really see her. The Wookiee took one look at Fett holding Leia and snarled, but held his place after a cautioning gesture from Skywalker. 

Jabba started talking and the interpreter droid stepped forward. “His High Exaltedness, the great Jabba the Hutt has decreed that you be terminated...immediately.”

“Good,” Solo smirked. “I hate long waits.”

“You will be taken to the Dune Sea and cast into the pit of Carkoon, the nesting place of the all-powerful Sarlaac. In his belly, you will find a new definition of pain and suffering as you are slowly digested over a thousand years.”

The Wookiee roared unhappily, and Solo looked deflated, but Skywalker maintained the same eerie calm. “You should have bargained, Jabba,” he said confidently as the guards pressed in. “That's the last mistake you'll ever make.” 

The Hutt laughed and the protocol droid scrambled to translate. “The Almighty Jabba also wants you to know that he has decided to spare the Princess the same fate.” The droid paused and added. “At last, some good news.”

Jabba turned his attention to Fett, his yellow eyes gleaming. “For you, Fett, a very special, one time offer. If you still want her.”

Solo turned his unseeing glare toward Jabba. “You can't do that! You can't give her to that bounty hunter!”

“Too late for that,” Jabba laughed, and Fett felt Leia stiffen with anger. He couldn't see her face, but he could see the furious red flush creeping up the back of her neck. Now was not the time for angry outbursts.

“Jabba, don't be a fool!” Solo exploded, struggling against the guards holding his arms. “You could ransom her for – for more money than you can imagine! If you give her to Fett, he'll sell her off to the highest bidder in a second!”

“No I won't,” the bounty hunter replied flatly. “I'll take good care of her, Solo. Regular meals. Regular exercise.”

The taunt was effective. Jabba chortled, the crowd howled with laughter and Solo lunged uselessly forward, cursing inventively. Leia's entire body was taunt as a drawn bow, but she was smart enough to keep quiet.

If he backed out now, there was no telling what Jabba would do to her. Actually, he could think of a number of possibilities, and he found all of them deeply and violently unacceptable. It would undoubtedly cost him some unreasonable sum of credits, but Leia would be safe and Jabba could bask in Solo's anguish as he watched the woman he loved sold like an animal. 

He touched her chin, turning her face up toward him. She looked at him with defiance, but she didn't fight him. “You want to say goodbye, Princess?”

Surprise flickered in her eyes, followed quickly by suspicion. “...Yes.”

“Yes _what_ , Slave?” He demanded, and her jaw clenched visibly. She looked at him with those unflinching dark eyes and for a tense moment he wasn't sure what she was going to do.

“Yes...” She said the words as if they hurt. “...Master Fett.” 

Salacious Crumb cackled, setting off a round of snickering and crude comments from the audience. Fett released her, but kept the end of her chain in his hand. There was enough slack for her to approach the smuggler, just close enough to touch his face. Solo jerked, but quickly relaxed when she murmured “it's okay. It's me.”

“Leia-” the smuggler started to say, but she covered his mouth with her hand. “It's going to be okay, Han,” she said, her voice firm and steady. “It's going to be okay. Please believe me.”

She turned her head toward Skywalker, and a look passed between them. Jabba shifted his enormous bulk and went searching in his bowl for a live, wiggling snack. Fett knew the Hutt was getting bored.

He tugged sharply on Leia's chain, and she turned back toward him reluctantly.

“On your knees,” he commanded. “Crawl back to me.”

Salacious Crumb gave a squeal of approval, and Jabba began to laugh again. Leia looked at the Hutt with pure loathing, then she sank gracefully to her knees, her pretty face carved out of stone as she crossed the floor. The spectators cheered her on with a cacophony of lewd calls and gestures, and the Wookiee made an unhappy sound. Leia ignored them all, keeping her focus on her path and her progress until she was kneeling at the bounty hunter's feet. Fett felt a strange mixture of fascination and respect as he watched her dust sand and dirt off her palms, her chin held high. 

Bib Fortuna appeared at his elbow with a datapad. “His Excellency's price.” 

Fett glanced at it and felt a rare and uncomfortable jolt of shock. He'd expected an unreasonable sum of credits, but Jabba was asking for more. Much more. 

Because now Jabba knew exactly what he wanted.

“Done,” Fett said through gritted teeth, and Jabba's eyes bulged with delight.

“Oh dear,” the golden droid moaned in the hush that followed. “What will become of me now?”

“Take them away,” Jabba ordered, waving his hand carelessly toward the other prisoners. Solo was still protesting and cursing, but the Hutt's attention was elsewhere. “I regret that we will will never become better acquainted,” he said to Leia, and the droid dutifully repeated the translation. “But you must give your full appreciation to your new master. Enjoy her, Fett,” Jabba added. “I'm sure she'll be worth the price.”

The bounty hunter inclined his head coldly to the Hutt and pulled on Leia's chain. “Stand up.” She obeyed, her face reflecting the kind of numbness born out of shock.

The bounty hunter's steps were sure and steady as he left the chamber, the outer calm projected by his armor gave no indication of the turmoil within. For fifteen years he'd been dealing with Jabba, and this was the first time the Hutt had ever gotten the better of him. It did not sit comfortably with him. 

He slapped the light panel as they entered the room, turned and temporarily suspended his brooding. Leia was dirty and bruised, her first journey across the rough stone floor had skinned her knees, arms and the outside of her left leg from hip to calf. Some of the scrapes were raw and oozing blood, but it was all superficial. The real concern was the chalk-white color of her face, and the unfocused direction of her gaze. She seemed to be in shock, on internal lockdown while she sorted it all out.

He removed his helmet and laid it on the table with his blaster. Leia stood still, abnormally meek and quiet while he removed her collar. He turned her around and gave her a light shove towards the 'fresher. “Get in the shower.” 

She took a stumbling step forward and stopped. He walked her into the shower, stripped her naked and turned the water on, full blast. He pushed her head under the freezing spray and she gasped. Her eyes widened, but there was no fire, no protest. “Leia?” He said, but she shivered and didn't answer.

Fett adjusted the water temperature and dropped the heavier and less water resistant pieces of his armor. He stepped into the shower, cupped her face and kissed her deeply, wanting a reaction and not caring if was a returning kiss or a slap. She gave him neither. He held her, resting her head against his breastplate and stroking her wet hair with his hand. The water gradually became warmer. “It's over now,” he tried again.

“Don't do that,” she said in a fierce whisper. “Don't be _nice_. Not after that.” She was still pale, but her eyes were sharper and more focused. Satisfied that she was recovering, Fett stepped back and took a closer look at the raw skin on her forearms. She jerked in response. “Ow.” 

“They need to be washed,” he said, pulling them under the warm water. Her hands were shaking.

“Are you still cold?”

“I'm having a bad day,” she replied wearily. 

Fett shut off the water and turned on the air dryer. “I'm going to put bacta on the cuts. Hold still.”

She took a deep, audible breath, and the shakiness seemed to subside a little. He found himself glancing up at her face every few seconds, worried that she might actually faint. “Do you feel dizzy or sick?”

She shook her head mutely, and he knelt to tend to the scratches on her leg. To his surprise, she put her hand on his shoulder, leaning a little against him. “A little dizzy, maybe,” she said wryly. “I'll try not to throw up on you.”

Relieved by the return of her sense of humor, his mouth curved into a tight smile. Her skin still felt cold to him, but she seemed much steadier now. There were little drops of water beading down her smooth abdomen, only a few inches from his face. He wondered what she would do if he put his mouth there, and licked the water from her skin.

The hand he'd been resting innocently on her hip tightened involuntarily. 

“Can I go lay down?” Her voice was quiet but steady. 

“Of course.” Fett straightened and left the shower, stripping off his wet armor and clothing. Leia walked past him into the bedroom, her wet feet leaving small, half-footprints on the tile floor.

He was down to his shorts when he stopped abruptly, cocking his head toward the bedroom as if he'd heard something, even though he hadn't. He wasn't sure what made him think of it. She hadn't looked at him, and she hadn't made a show of _not_ looking at him. There was no real reason that he could give a name to, nothing but instinct.

He left the 'fresher, but he was too late. “Leia,” he said as she turned from the table, naked and wet and holding his own rifle on him. In spite of that arresting sight, he looked at the steadiness of her hands first, then at her eyes, trying to gauge whether or not that unflinching resolve included his immediate death. “You can't save your friends with one gun.”

“Probably not,” she agreed. “But I can get myself out. And I can take your armor.” She smiled faintly. “I bet all of that Mandalorian commando stuff would come in handy at the Pit of Carkoon.”

“A bold plan,” He replied evenly, “I'd almost like to see you try it.”

“Sorry.” Leia raised the blaster slightly and flipped the setting to stun. “You'll be unconscious. Any words of farewell?”

“I took the power cells out,” he said, and she hesitated, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. A de-celled blaster would have been noticeably lighter, something she undoubtedly knew. But now she was rethinking it, wondering if this particular rifle had a different weight balance, wondering if he would have had time to unload it while she was staring blankly at the wall. 

She had to look, and in that split second he moved forward and grabbed her arm. The blue-white stun bolt ratcheted harmlessly off the ceiling and the bounty hunter ripped the gun from her hands. Leia took a wild swing at him, and he grabbed her wrist, spinning her around and bending her over the table top with her arm twisted and held against her back.

“You sneaky, soulless, _kriffing_ liar,” she spit, struggling uselessly. Fett tossed the blaster on the bed and leaned into her, holding her still with his weight. 

“You have nothing to gain by attacking me,” he said in her ear. “So don't be stupid.” He pulled her up and turned her to face him, keeping her pinned between him and table, holding her wrists against her back. Her dark eyes were blazing with fury, her chest heaving. He tightened his grip on her, making sure she knew he was serious. “Control yourself, and I'll drop you off in Mos Eisley with a clothing and a gun, a free woman. Point a weapon at me again and you lose the first two things.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Her voice was sharp and breathless, and her body was so tense, she was almost quivering. 

“I expect you to think this through,” he replied in a low, calm voice. “I'm your best chance of getting out of here alive.”

“And I'm worth more alive,” she said bitterly. “The Empire won't pay you as much for my corpse.”

“I'm not taking you to Vader.” She rolled her eyes and Fett impatiently grasped her chin, forcing her to look up at him. For some reason it really annoyed him that she believed Solo's claim. “What reason would I have to lie to you?

“Oh come on,” Leia said scornfully. “That's not a blaster in your shorts.”

“That's true.” Fett replied, dropping his hand from her chin and keeping his voice level. “But just because I want to fuck you doesn't mean I'm going to screw you. I didn't buy you to use you or sell you.”

She held his gaze fiercely for a moment or two. Some of the hostility faded had from her eyes, but her expression was still wary. “If I say I believe you, will you let go of my arms?” 

Fett let go and stepped back. Leia rubbed her arms, her eyes avoiding him now. “Was I expensive?”

“Yes.”

“I'll pay you back.”

The bounty hunter moved away to retrieve his weapons and helmet. “Don't concern yourself. What's done is done.” 

In his peripheral vision, he saw Leia pulling the sheet off the bed. “How much was it?”

“The next time Jabba needs my services, the fee is waived. That was his price.” Fett went to the 'fresher to collect a few more weapons and lay out his clothing and armor to dry. She was calm and rational now, with his weapons secured he might be able to grab a few hours of sleep in the chair. When he returned, she had the sheet wrapped tightly around her, her bare arms folded over her chest to hold it in place. 

“That's a disgustingly bad deal,” she said. “Jabba could ask for anything.”

Anger gave his voice a sharp edge as he leaned down to pack up his gear. “I'm aware of that.”

“Why?” She said, sounding troubled. “Why would you do that?”

“Does it matter?” He snapped his case shut and straightened. “We're leaving first thing in the morning. I'm going to get some sleep. I suggest you do the same.”

Leia took a few seconds to mull that over, then raised her head and swallowed. She took a step in his direction, the tension back in her limbs, and he tensed too, unable to read her intent in her eyes. “If you take me to Vader after all this, I swear-”

“I won't.” He said, a little amused by her attempt to threaten him. “Not this time. And if I ever decide to collect the bounty on your head, you won't be naked and unarmed when I come for you.”

Her returning smile was a little shaky, but she took another step toward him. “Easy with the flattery, Fett. I'm going to start thinking you like me.”

He was beginning to reach that conclusion too. “I admire anyone who has the strength of will to crawl when necessary.”

She came closer, a light burning in her dark eyes as she lifted her arms and put them around his neck. The brush of her lips was tentative, a question that he answered without hesitation. At this point, there was no reason not to. One more wrong decision couldn't possibly matter. 

The sheet slipped down, and then caught somewhere at her waist as her tongue curled appealingly around his. He pulled the sheet free and let it drop, gathering her up easily and laying her down on the bed. His mouth moved to her throat, against her hammering pulse, and then further down to the valley between her breasts. His tongue touched her skin and she jerked against him and made a very inarticulate, but encouraging noise. 

Her legs locked around his, impeding his plans to move his mouth lower, to see if there were any of those little water droplets left on her belly. His hand could still go lower and did. Her hips bucked and her legs tightened. “Don't,” she gasped, the word a curse and plea. “Don't wait.” And then she bought his compliance with a single breathless word. “ _Boba..._ ”

Later he would try to remember how long it had been since anyone called him by first name, let alone a woman in a state of arousal. In the moment he knew nothing but fire and the strong, sweet invitation of her body under his.

“Wait,” she gasped. “Stop.” The moment stuttered painfully to a halt, and Fett waited, holding his breath. She twisted, sliding out from under him. Leia rose up her knees and tossed her unraveling braid over one shoulder. “This time,” she said fiercely. “I'm on top.”

He rolled over immediately, pulling her to him. The light in her eyes was stronger and wilder than before, and her nails pressed into his chest as she sat up, breathing hard, her entire body flushed with heat. There was an answering current of adrenaline in him, an absolute willingness to take this and let everything else go. Allies or enemies, regardless of who her heart belonged to, she was here now. With him. “Better?”

“Better,” she agreed, and leaned down to capture his mouth in an aggressive, demanding kiss. 

 

 


	5. Tatooine Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath and an awkward farewell.

 

**Jabba's Palace**

 

It was morning, though Leia didn't know exactly what time it was. No music yet, but she could hear the faint squawks of instruments as their owners tuned them, then crashing noises and foreign curses. She almost fell back asleep. Then it all came flooding back. All of the previous day's struggles and humiliations, all of her failures. Luke, captured. Chewie, a prisoner. Lando, still in hiding, and Han, blind and alone in a dungeon cell.

While she was here. With Boba Fett.

He was still asleep, but his presence could hardly be ignored. Not when he was sleeping beside her, naked against her side with his arm around her and their legs still partially entwined. What in the seven hells of Bastigo was she thinking?

That was stupid question. Leia knew exactly what she'd been thinking. She was thinking about the mission, and about achieving her objectives by any means necessary. She was thinking she could hold her own in a den of rogues. She was thinking that she could handle Boba Fett, maybe even convince him to come over to her side. 

A wry smile touched her lips before it vanished. She couldn't deny Fett had kept her safe, but safety was not her ultimate goal. Freeing Han was. 

It wasn't exactly the way they'd planned it, but the bounty hunter's actions would ultimately allow her to complete her mission. She could find her way from Mos Eisley to the Pit of Carkoon. There were a few Rebel cells based in this area, maybe she could get some local help...

She was working it out in her head when Fett stirred, his arm tightening around her. Leia kept her eyes on the ceiling, trying not to think about the way his morning errection was pressing into her hip. Her limbs felt stiff and heavy, she wanted to stretch, but she didn't want him to wake up until she had herself mentally together. 

Sleeping with him was an act of calculation, a tactical move. There was no reason to get flustered about it now. 

After last night's rough and adrenaline-fueled tumble, Leia had fallen asleep immediately. Some time in the early morning she had an old, bad dream and woke up in a dark and unfamiliar room, gasping for air. Fett touched her shoulder questioningly, and she grabbed blindly for his arm, reassured by the solid warmth and muscle. She'd said something to him, but now that she was thinking about it, she couldn't remember what she'd said. Was she even talking to him, or was she still dreaming?

What she did recall with uncomfortable clarity was that at some point he started touching her, and she responded. There was no reasoning behind it, no strategy. She was exhausted, mentally and physically spent, but he persisted until her sleepy compliance became mindless heat. In that furtive darkness it seemed perfectly reasonable to roll over for him, to let him pull her hips up and to yield to the cloying tension building inside her. When it finally broke, she cried out, and the sound was lost in her pillow. 

In the darkness it seemed like nothing. Now in the daylight, it bothered her like a splinter under her skin. She couldn't take the time to deal with now, so she would just have to suffer the discomfort while it lasted. 

Soon she would be gone from here, and Han too, and all of this wouldn't matter because the future would be that damn bright. 

Fett moved beside her again, his fingers brushing against the curve of her breast in a way that definitely indicated wakefulness. Leia took a deep breath and put her hand over his, neatly removing it from her body. “Good Morning,” she said politely, not looking at him.

He pulled himself up on one elbow next to her. “I'm not getting laid again,” he said, a statement of fact.

“Sorry.” She kept her eyes on the ceiling. “I'll give you points for ambition, though.”

“I'm known to be an ambitious man. This is not usually where it takes me.”

The rueful tinge in his voice made her smile a little, and she risked a sideways glance. “What?” Leia said lightly, hoping to alleviate the awkwardness with humor. “don't your other employers have harems?”

He looked back at her, only the slightest curl at the corner of his mouth acknowledged her joke. “I've had all my shots. If you were worried.”

Her own smile faltered, and she shook her head. “I guess I should have been. Isn't that what they teach you in school, to talk about these things before, not after?”

“I don't know.”

“Well, better late than never,” Leia said with determination. “I'm current on all of my shots too. Immunizations and contraceptive. My last sexual partner was over two years ago.” She turned her head toward him as she spoke, and caught the flicker of surprise and doubt in his eyes. “What?” She said, annoyed. “You don't believe me? I don't exactly have my medical records with me, so you'll have to take my word for it.”

“I believe you.” He touched her wrist lightly, not holding or pulling. The reason for his reaction suddenly occurred to Leia. He thought she'd been having sex with Han, and why wouldn't he? The same woman who ruthlessly seduced him surely wouldn't hesitate to share her bed with someone she claimed to love.

She had the uncomfortable sense of being a stranger to herself, like the first time she put on a real, grown-up dress and saw herself in a mirror. It was her, but it hadn't been before. Was she real, or was she just playing dress up? 

His thumb stroked the inside of her arm, along the track of her vein, and Leia pulled her arm away. “Stop that,” she ordered tersely. “I can't do that again.”

Fett pulled his hand back, frowning slightly. “Was I too rough?”

“No.” Heat filled her cheeks and colored her voice with annoyance. “That's not what I meant. I can't... I can't just...” Her eyes returned to the ceiling, a form of retreat she wanted to resist and couldn't. “I can't stop thinking about Han,” she finally said.

The bounty hunter rolled onto his back and tucked his hands behind his head. “He's got his Wookiee to keep him warm.”

Leia gave him a quick, irritated look. Now that they were no longer sharing body heat, she felt cold and exposed. “Where did that sheet go?”

“On the floor.”

She sat up with as much dignity as she could manage, bringing her hair over one shoulder as she looked at the scattered bedding on the floor. “Is that your pillow or mine?”

“Yours.” His eyes cut to the pillow she'd been resting on. “That one's mine.”

“Oh. Sorry.” 

“At least you didn't try to smother me with it.” 

Leia wasn't sure if he meant it as a joke or not.

“Did my good behavior earn me some clothing?” She asked, trying to comb her fingers through her tangled hair. His gaze turned toward the 'fresher, where her slave girl costume was still in a heap on the floor. “ _Clothing_ , Fett,” she said with a frown. “That doesn't qualify.”

“Not a lot of options until we reach Mos Eisley. I'll buy you anything you need there.”

The hot flush returned to her cheeks as she mercilessly worked out another snarl. His ownership might be a technicality, but the idea of being fed and dressed by him still made her profoundly uncomfortable. 

“I've cost you enough,” she said shortly, and resigned herself to putting that ridiculous outfit back on. At least it had decent footwear, the boots were soft-soled, but they weren't heeled and would protect her feet from the hot sands. Now she just needed something to protect her from the merciless Tatooine sun. 

She didn't want to ask, but practicality won out. “I don't suppose you have an old cloak or something I could have?”

Fett sat up, resting his elbows on his knees while he thought it over. “On _Slave I_. I have extra clothes there.” His eyes locked on his durasteel case across the room and he rolled smoothly out of bed and onto his feet. 

Leia watched curiously as he removed armor and weapons to locate something at the bottom of the case. He returned to the bed with a small bundle of cloth and tossed it in her lap. “They won't fit you,” he warned.

The fabric was thin, designed to fold up as small as possible for easy storage, but it was clothing. A tunic, undershirt and pants, worn and wrinkled, but clean and infinitely more practical than the alternative. “Are you sure you don't mind?” She asked, trying and failing to hide her enthusiasm.

He shook his head dismissively, watching her as she pulled the sleeveless undershirt over her head. The garment hung loose and transparent to the tops of her thighs, the neckline plunging like an evening gown. “I think you were right about the fit,” she laughed, but her amusement died the moment she met his dark, unwavering gaze. He had a different opinion about the fit now. Leia swallowed and dropped her eyes. His bare chest still bore the marks left by her nails last night, and he was getting hard again. 

It was an odd, powerful feeling, knowing how easy it would be. All she had to do was look up and smile, make some flippant remark about the shirt. He would come back to the bed, and a few minutes later she would be on her back, the thin fabric of the undershirt sliding between them.

And that really would be inexcusable. She was in love with Han. That was who she really was. 

Leia turned away, busily unfolding the pants. After a moment Fett moved to the 'fresher to collect his own clothing and she let out a pent-up breath of relief. Focus, she told herself sternly. 

After all, she had a busy day ahead of her. 

 

**Mos Eisley Spaceport**

 

The wind was picking up. The residents of Mos Eisley took it in stride, taking shelter in the nearest cantina or shop. Sand and grit filled the air, spiraling down the abandoned streets. Fett was comfortable, insulated from the weather by his armor, but Leia had no such protection. The hot wind pulled at her hair and set her too-large clothing flapping around her small frame. She held the long sleeve over her nose and mouth with one hand, and tried to shield her eyes with the other.

“There,” he said, indicating the rounded doorway of docking bay 49. She couldn't hear him over the wind, so he took her arm and pulled her into the arch of the door. _Slave I_ was lurking in the shadows, silent and cold. “Wait here,” he said. He went aboard his ship to retrieve a blaster and an old cloak.

He was almost surprised that Leia was still standing at the doorway when he returned. She reached up to brush a strand of hair off her sand-dusted cheek, her eyes were fixed on the horizon, her posture tense and restless. 

“I can't talk you out of this?”

“Out of what?” She asked coolly, and then pulled up awkwardly on the sagging waistband of her pants.

“Whatever -” he judiciously avoided a number of derogatory adjectives “- _plan_ you have to rescue Solo and the Jedi boy.”

She looked down, then out at the dark sky over the Dune Sea. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

He could slip the tranq dart out of his left wrist guard and stab her in the neck with it. If he was fast enough, she wouldn't have time to struggle. By the time she woke up, _Slave I_ would in hyperspace and it would too late for her to make any reckless attempts to save her friends. She would hate him for it, but at least his efforts to keep her safe wouldn't be wasted. 

Instead he forced his anger back in check. Anger was the emotion he should absolutely avoid when Leia Organa was around. It was a petulant, foolish anger anyway, the anger of a child who wants something he can never have. “Jabba will have a barge and two skiffs. A dozen armed guards minimum, plus the deck cannon.”

Leia gave him a wary look. “Thanks for the tip.” She seemed about to say something, then she didn't, her eyes refocusing on the blowing sand. When she spoke again, it was carefully and hesitantly. “When I was a teenager, my father took me to see a special display at the Aldera Center for the Arts. They had a holograph there, _A Moment of Calm_. Have you ever seen it?”

“No.”

“It's a still image,” she continued. “Of a clone soldier, sitting alone on piece of battlefield debris with his helmet in his hands. He's young, but his face is grim. Grim and knowing. It's a very rare-” She stopped and shook her head, realization forcing a short laugh from her, “it _was_ a very rare portrait. Now it's extinct.” Her lips pressed together, a fleeting expression of pain. “I thought about it this morning, for the first time in years. I feel sort of stupid for not seeing it before.”

Fett said nothing. Silence seemed to be the most direct route out of this conversation. 

“I met a veteran solider from the Clone Wars when I was in the Senate,” she continued. “He was an old man. He's been aging at more than twice the rate of a standard human for thirty years. I think that's what threw me the most. I guess a clone made at the same time without growth acceleration...” she let the sentence drift off, giving him time to respond. When he didn't, she folded her arms over her chest and turned her attention back to the swirling sands outside.

“A Hutt walks into a bar on Ord Mantell,” he said. “He orders the strongest drink in the house. The bartender gives it to him, and after one sip, he falls over dead. What does the bartender say?”

She blinked in surprise, then looked up at him with her eyebrows raised. “You think I'm going to die, don't you?”

“Everybody dies,” he responded harshly. “If you're captured again, Jabba will know I let you go. He'll hold me responsible for whatever damage you cause.”

“This whole catch-and-release thing was your idea,” she reminded him sharply, pulling up on the waistband of her pants again. “And I certainly don't intend to die without a fight, so what do you want from me?”

It was a fair question. The wind was dying down. Another few minutes, and the sands would settle. The street venders and pedestrians of Mos Eisley would return to the streets, and Leia would be gone. 

“Come here.” Fett unsnapped his utility belt and she looked up, startled. Her back hit the doorway, her eyes full of confusion and alarm. He pulled the faded sash from around his waist and shook it, sending particles of sand scattering over the floor. Once, a long time ago, it had meant something. A reminder of a different life, a different path. Now it was just a strip of cloth that kept his belt from sliding. He could find something else that would work just as well.

Leia saw what he was doing now, she lifted her arms hesitantly and he wrapped it around her waist, securing her pants. She so close now it was almost an embrace, and it would be easy to pull out that dart while his hands were behind her back. Put one hand on her shoulder, a distraction, find that spot in her neck with the other, slide the needle in. She wouldn't understand what he was doing until it was done.

He let her go and refastened his belt. 

Oblivious to how close she'd come to being drugged and taken offworld against her will, Leia smoothed her hand over the sash. “Thanks.”

He showed her the blaster, showed her that it was loaded and charged and tucked it into the sash. If she was smart, she'd trade it in for a rifle, something with range and a scope. He handed her the cloak next, and she put it on, her gaze sliding toward the door as she raised the hood. Sand was still blowing around, but the sky was clearing. “I guess this is goodbye,” she said. “If I do survive, and there's ever some way I can repay you...” She paused before turning towards the exit, a wry smile on her face. “Well, I guess you'll find me.”

 

**The Dune Sea**

 

The _Millennium Falcon_ was a solid, comforting silhouette in the midst of another sudden sandstorm. Leia could feel sand grinding between her teeth as she pushed towards the ship, holding tight to Han. Chewbacca gave a questioning roar, and Han stopped short, nearly causing her to stumble. “I don't know,” he said in reply. “All I can see is a lot of blowing sand.”

“That's all any of us can see,” Leia informed him, fighting the wind that threatened to rip her hood off. 

“Oh. Then I guess I'm getting better.”

Luke caught up to them, turning against the wind and shielding his eyes like the native of Tatooine he was. “Your new friends disbanded pretty fast,” he said to Leia. “I didn't even catch any of their names.”

“It's safer that way. They might be loyal to the Alliance, but they still have to live here in the Hutt's territory. If anyone finds out they helped us kill Jabba, their lives and the lives of their families are at risk.”

“I have to admit,” Han said, squeezing her hand tightly. “That wasn't a bad bit of rescuing.”

The gangplank lowered, and they all staggered up the ramp as the wind beat against them. First Leia, still leading Han, then Lando, then Luke, then the droids. Finally Chewbacca boarded, shaking sand from his fur and growling.

“I'm with you, Chewie,” Lando agreed. “Let's get off this miserable dustball.” 

Han lurched toward the cockpit, but Leia grabbed his arm. “Oh no you don't. Lando and Chewie can handle it. You're going to lay down and rest.”

“I'm fine,” he protested, and then walked into a low-hanging bridge support. “Ouch. Who put _that_ there?”

“Han.”

“Okay, okay. I guess I could sit down.” He grasped clumsily for the bench behind him and sat. “Whoa. Have we started moving yet?”

“No.”

“You sure you're okay, buddy?” Lando bent over, concerned, but Han waved him off. 

“I'm good. I'll just sit here, put my feet up, and let Leia fill in all the blanks.” He turned toward her, squinting a little. “I'm dying to know how you got away from Fett. Is it too much to hope that you killed him too?”

Leia was suddenly aware that four pairs of eyes were looking at her with varying degrees of concern. She smiled at them and waved her hand in breezy dismissal. “It was easier to pay him off. I couldn't convince him to turn on Jabba, so I hired him to get me out of there instead.”

Han frowned. “And then he just...let you go?”

Leia shrugged, her heart pounding in her throat. “He's a professional.” 

Han didn't say anything, and Chewie made a sound between a snuffle and growl. It was Lando who showed acceptance of her story first. “Only you could get the better of a cold barve like Fett,” he said with a grin. “Well done, Princess.”

“I'll say,” Luke agreed, and Leia finally relaxed. “The storm's dying down,” the young Jedi noted. “I've got to get back to my fighter.”

“You're not coming with us?”

“No, I have to do something first.” He stood up and raised his hood up over his head. “I have promise to keep to an old friend.”

“The Alliance should be assembled by now.” Leia reminded him and gave him a quick hug. “Hurry.” 

“I will.”

“Chewie,” Han said slowly. “Give me a hand here, pal.”

“I'll do it,” Leia insisted. “What do you need?”

“To visit the 'fresher,” Han replied with a grin. “Still wanna help?” She blushed and shook her head quickly. Han hauled himself to his feet and put his arm around her. “Hey. Thanks for coming after me, Your Worship. I owe you one.” He dropped a clumsy kiss on her left eyebrow. “Oops. That wasn't what I was aiming for.”

“I'll go help Lando get ready for the jump,” Leia said with a smile and shake of her head. She unhooked the heavy cloak and shook the sand out of the folds of her clothes before she stepped into the cockpit and dropped into the co-pilot's seat. 

Lando strapped into the pilot's chair and smiled at her. “Ready to go?”

“I was ready two days ago.”

He flipped some switches on the control panel, warming up the ship's engines. “Are you going to tell Han?”

The weight of his words caught her off guard. “Tell him what?”

“About Fett.” The engines began to hum, and Lando's hands moved automatically over the controls. “News travels fast among Jabba's guards. Especially when a lot of them had money on it.” 

Leia's heart dropped into her stomach, and she could feel the heat rising into her cheeks as she recalled the humiliating physical examination in the harem the morning after she was given to the bounty hunter. “They were betting on me?”

“Better _against_ you, actually. They've been playing this game for years. Jabba kept sending women to Fett, and he kept sending them back, so they started putting money on it. When Jabba found out about it, he started upping the stakes.”

Her hand went reflexively to her throat. She supposed chaining women to his bed could be considered “upping the stakes.”

“Hutts love to gamble,” Lando continued in a matter-of-fact way. “But they don't like to lose. Jabba didn't lose with you.”

Leia wanted to say something, but she couldn't fathom what. 

“We should have never let you go in there,” Lando said grimly. “I don't think any of us thought...well, you're a princess, a political hostage. It never occurred to me that Jabba would-”

“They told me I didn't have a choice,” Leia said suddenly, forcing the words out of her mouth. “But it was my choice. He wouldn't have touched me. It was my choice, my decision. I knew Boba Fett could protect me.” She took a deep, shaky breath. Part of her rebelled against this story, rebelled against the idea that she'd prostituted herself. But now that she was back with her friends, whatever attraction she'd felt toward the bounty hunter felt completely alien and wrong. “You must think I'm a horrible person,” she said, unable to look him in the eye.

“Please,” Lando said dryly, “look who you're talking to. If I thought it would have kept Vader off my mining colony, I'd have fucked Fett too.”

She laughed, a short, harsh laugh, but she lifted her head and some of the tension left her spine. “I will tell Han,” she promised. “When the time is right.”

“Now that,” said Lando, “I wouldn't do.”

Once again, Leia was caught off guard. “I – uh, why not?”

“Because you two haven't slept together yet.” The gambler spoke with certainty and she stiffened with embarrassment.

“Did he-”

“No, no,” Lando was quick to reassure her. “Just an educated guess.”

“Not that it's any of your business,” she insisted. “But so what?”

“So now it'll always be in the back of his mind that Fett had you first.”

“That's ridiculous,” Leia snapped. “I wasn't a virgin before Boba Fett, and I'm sure Han has been with other women. I don't care.”

“But none of those women tracked you, trapped you, froze you in carbonite and sold you to your worst enemy as a piece of artwork.” The nav computer finished it's calculations, and Lando began to input the coordinates. “Plus, you wouldn't have been anywhere near Fett if you weren't trying to save Han. That's jealousy _and_ guilt. Kind of a rough start to a relationship.”

“And lying isn't?” Leia said incredulously.

“Well, it's your call.” Lando shrugged and raised an eyebrow. “But if you decide _not_ to tell him, you should know you have a suck mark on your neck.”

Leia slapped her hand to her throat and turned scarlet. 

“Other side, towards the back,” he directed calmly. “It was hidden by your cloak before. You might want to cover it with your hair or something before Han gets his eyesight completely back.”

 

 


	6. Along the Outer Rim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the fall of the Empire, Fett considers the changing galaxy and Leia struggles with the revelation of her parentage.

 

**The Outer Rim**

 

The call sequence spun up on the display, and after a quick glance, Boba Fett spoke aloud to _Slave I_ 's communicator. “Answer.”

“Boba Fett,” boomed the exuberant voice of Zorba the Hutt. “It has been too long.”

“What do you want?”

“Direct as always, Fett.” There was a pause, and Fett could picture the massive Zorba, with his bedraggled braids of hair stuffing a live, squirming snack in his mouth. “How is business in these troubled times?”

“Steady.”

“Of course, of course,” the Hutt smacked his lips. “Governments rise, governments fall, there is always a need for men such as yourself.” The pronouncement was followed by faint chewing sounds, then a soft belch. “Since my beloved son's death, there has been nothing but chaos and confusion. Such a sad fate for poor Jabba. I cannot help but feel that if you had been there...well, that's in the past now, isn't it?” Zorba sighed. “You have heard that I inherited his estate...It's a such a burden, sorting out his affairs. But it's what he would have wanted.”

Fett resisted the urge to snort derisively. Zorba would likely run the business into the ground in ten years. 

“And to top it all off, insurgency. I see Imperial facilities being destroyed, and all of our old associates fleeing or fled from this...Rebel Alliance. Spineless humans!”

“As you said,” the bounty hunter repeated in a bored tone. “Governments rise, governments fall.” He pulling up the intergalactic feed of wanted criminals just to see if there was anything new. The Alliance had posted bounties for a number of Grand Moffs and high ranking Imperial officers, but so far he hadn't given them much consideration. Maybe it was time for that to change. The Alliance seemed to be gaining momentum and allies daily, while the remnants of the Empire became more and more scattered.

“Yes...a man such as yourself will keep busy. Not too busy for your friends, though, I hope?”

“Get to the point,” Fett demanded curtly.

“Yes, yes, of course. The records we recovered from Jabba's palace were not entirely complete...but there was one interesting item about you...”

The Hutt couldn't see his helmet, let along his face, but Fett's expression turned to stone anyway.

“The day before Jabba's murder, you gave him a blank marker. A token of great value, no doubt a sign of the respect that existed between yourself and my son.” Zorba paused, but Fett said nothing. “In return,” the Hutt continued, “you were given a slave, the captured Rebel Princess. I understand that she is very beautiful. From a human's perspective. And Jabba was always...” a vein of disgust entered the old Hutt's voice “...taken by such accessories.”

If Zorba thought that would get him talking, he was mistaken. The silence stretched on awkwardly until the Hutt spoke again.

“I hope you were satisfied with this trade, Fett. I'm sure Jabba would have given your marker due consideration, had he been granted a little more time. Now that responsibility falls to me.”

“Who do you want me to find?”

“My son's killer.” A pause. “Send him the file, RJ-27.”

A light on the communications panel began to flash, signaling a data transfer. Fett opened the file, unsurprised to find a bounty listing for Leia Organa. The image attached to the listing must have been an old one pulled from the Net. Leia was noticeably younger, and wearing the traditional white robes of Alderaani royalty.

“There were no survivors to tell me exactly how Jabba died,” Zorba continued, “perhaps it was the murderous cretin who fired a deck canon at his head, perhaps he was dead was before that. By the time I could see the wreckage myself, my poor son was almost entirely ingested by carrion creatures.” The Hutt sighed heavily, but Fett hardly heard him. His hands were busy on the data panel, sending out queries to various sources. 

“The prisoners Jabba was attempting to execute,” Zorba said, “they had Rebel ties.” 

One of the queries returned with sharp _ping_ , downloading a series of images posted to an underground Alliance network. He opened the file and scanned through static images and short holo recordings of sentient beings all over the galaxy celebrating the fall of the Empire. A highly selective collection, doubtlessly intended to drum up support for the Alliance. 

It didn't take Fett long to find a more recent picture of Leia Organa. She was in the background of one of the still images from Endor, watching soldiers and Ewoks revel around a bonfire. Han Solo was at her side, his arm around her. She looked happy. Solo looked very …satisfied. 

“This woman you took with you from the palace, this Princess Leia Organa. I don't suppose you know where she is now?”

“No.”

“That's a pity. I feel certain she would have some idea who killed Jabba. If only I could ask her! You would not deny a grieving father that, I hope?”

Fett found what he was looking for. He opened a star chart next to the Endor image of Leia. “It's a blank marker,” he said in a monotone. “If you want Leia Organa, I'll bring her to you. But it will take time. And you have more immediate concerns.”

“Nothing is more immediate to a Hutt than revenge.”

“Jabba would have disagreed,” the bounty hunter replied evenly. “Your supply caravans are bleeding credits from the Free Station to Old Katellia. You've got a pirate problem.”

“All things in good time,” Zorba said. “When you've determined Jabba's killer, I will have other work for you.”

“Work you'll have to pay for,” Fett reminded him. “If you still have the resources.”

The Hutt's voice sharpened with suspicion. “Why this investment in my affairs, Fett?”

“You're no good to me unless you can afford me.”

Zorba grunted unhappily. “My son was a loyal friend to you, Hunter-”

“Jabba was a source of work,” Fett interrupted harshly. “And he knew better than to expect loyalty from me. If you want my services, be prepared to pay the price.”

There was tense silence, and the bounty hunter waited patiently while Zorba rumbled with agitation.“You could rid me of these Katellian thieves?” The old Hutt said finally. “Permanently?”

“If that's what you want.”

“Kill them all,” Zorba grumbled. “Your debt to my son will be settled, and we can focus on other things.”

“Agreed. Fett out.” He shut down the link and turned his attention back to his research. The Katellians were numerous, but not well armed. They burrowed into the ground, hiding their stolen goods in underground tunnels. He was going to need some serious bunker-busting ammunition, and it wouldn't be cheap. His attention strayed briefly back to the data screen showing the Alliance-posted bounties. War criminals usually made for easy prey. 

The highest fee was for Grand Moff Aleck Leebin, formerly of Alsakan. He entered a few more queries and found a few possible aliases for Leebin. One of them returned a result almost immediately, a recent immigration request. Fett sat up a little straighter. 

Leebin was seeking immigration status on Concord Dawn. 

He brought up the coordinates on a planet map, studying the location with a slight frown. It wasn't a bad choice for fugitive. Concord Dawn was remote, the immigration laws were lax, and mercenary bodyguards were plentiful. There was only one problem with it.

Boba Fett couldn't go to Concord Dawn. 

His eyes narrowed under his helmet as he considered his dilemma. Not once in sixteen years had he considered violating the exile order. There was nothing there for him now, nothing but an ex-Imperial commander who had the audacity to run beyond his reach. 

The Endor holo was still open on his screen, the soldiers frozen in their celebration. Leia smiled, her head resting contentedly on Solo's shoulder. He shut it down, and turned back to his communications panel. The idea that Leebin or anyone else could find refuge on Concord Dawn was unacceptable. 

No one should be beyond his reach. 

 

* * *

 

“The Alliance of Free Planets has announced their intentions to form a New Republic, with leaders of the former Rebel Alliance serving as significant policymakers in the transition. The Alliance has been steadily gaining allies, in spite of breaking news last week that Alderaan's royal poster child Princess Leia Organa -”

“So what does this mean, B'Ill? How does a supposedly all-powerful Sith Lord not know that he has-”

“ _Gramblen buffgar Vinete Leia Organa-_ ”

“ _Bzzz_...Aerial bombing on Old Katellia destroyed the subterranean homes of thousands last week, and sparked a series of riots _uzzzzzpt_ unrest that have left the moon devastated. Some locals are claiming that the air raid was a hit, carried out by the bounty _huzzzzpt_ Boba Fett at the behest of the _Huttsssszzzzzpt. Bzzzzzzpt_.”

“-No coincidence that the princess was in Imperial custody during the destruction of Alderaan. What kind of behind-the-scenes deals were being made?”

Leia shut off the transmitter and turned her attention back to the datapad on her knees. Her office had perfectly good desk with a comfortable chair, but lately she found she preferred to sit on the floor next to the full-lengh windows overlooking the forest moon of Endor. From the window she could watch ships come and go from the hanger bay, the glow from their engine lights passing through the dark room like a ghost. 

The door chimed and Leia waited, her hand poised over the datapad. No one was supposed to know she was here. The door chimed again, and then she heard Han Solo's voice. “Leia. Open the door.”

She groped for the remote on the floor beside her and pushed the button to release the lock. She could see Han in the window's reflection, silhouetted by the lights in the corridor. He shut the door behind him and looked around at the dark, vacant office.

Leia pressed her stylus to the pad, marking through a sentence she hadn't even read. “Did Luke send you?”

Han stepped over a half-packed box around a few scattered sheets of flimsy. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Late?” She asked carelessly. “Early?”

“You've been in here for two days.”

Her hand tightened, and the datapad flashed red to warn her she was pressing the stylus too hard against it. She leaned her head against the cold glass of the window. “I have work to do.”

“Leia,” Han said slowly, “you're not supposed to be here. You're on leave, remember? ”

“ _Administrative_ leave.” Her fingers tapped restlessly against the pad. “Mothma says she'll make me an ambassador, once the government offices have been established.”

“That's good, isn't it?” He spoke carefully. “You like that kind of thing.”

“It's an exit,” she replied through her teeth. “A back door for me to disappear through. I'm useless to the Alliance now. I'm worse than useless, I'm a _distraction_. Every time the Alliance is mentioned on the HoloNet, they run that vid of my victory speech and introduce me as the 'daughter of the deceased Sith Lord, Darth Vader.'” Just repeating the words nearly choked her.

“Luke's done okay.”

“Luke is a nobody from a hick planet,” she snapped. “Outside of the Alliance, no one knows who he is.”

Han exhaled heavily. “Sweetheart, you need to get some sleep. C'mon, I'll take you home.”

Leia turned back toward the window, a raw and bitter edge in her voice. “I had a home once. A real home. Now all I have is an empty office.”

“So _leave_ ,” He said impatiently. “All you have to do is say the word, and we'll go right now. I'll take you anywhere.”

“And do _what_?” 

“I don't know! Have some fun! Have a life outside of the Alliance!”

It was an argument they'd had before. Many times before. When Luke first told her the truth about her parentage, she though she could keep it a secret, tucked safely away in the back of her mind until she could deal with it. Then the information went public and her secret was stripped away and it left her naked and vulnerable in front of the entire galaxy. All of the beings she'd looked up to and worked with for years in the rebellion looked at her like she was entirely different person. 

Maybe she was. 

But she still couldn't leave. She couldn't give up her last shred of identity, her final connection to the parents who'd adopted her, raised her and loved her. She couldn't let Vader take that too. 

“I didn't come here to fight,” Han said in a low, defeated tone. “I came to tell you I'm going out to Malastare for a while. Commander Riker has a buddy out there with some work for me and Chewie, and...whatever you're doing here, I'm not helping.”

Leia knew she was supposed to tell him not to go. “Take care,” she said, and the words came out much colder than she'd intended. 

“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “You too.”

He turned toward the door and the words forced their way out of her mouth before she could stop them. “I slept with Boba Fett.” She didn't know why she said it, why she was telling him now when it really didn't matter. In the reflection. Han lowered his head and grimaced.

“Yeah, I know.”

She raised her head in shock, turning to look him in the eye for the first time since his arrival. “How?”

“It wasn't that hard to put together.” He shrugged. “You said you paid him off, but it wasn't like you were carrying a bunch of cash around, and Fett's not known to work on credit. And Chewie said you smelled like him, the day we left Tatooine. At first I wanted killed him,” he offered quietly, “but you just...you didn't seem to hold it against him. I know you like scoundrels, Sweetheart, but- ” Han swore and looked away. “I really don't want to talk about it. This isn't about him. I came here to tell you that I love you too much to watch you starve to death in an empty office.” 

He waited. A second passed, then a minute. Han exhaled, his jaw hard as stone. “Yeah. I don't know why I thought that would change your mind. So long, Princess.”

Don't go, she thought, but the words never made it out of her mouth. She turned her head back to the window as a squadron of X-Wings left the hanger bay, their lights blurring as tears stung eyes. She heard his footsteps, retreating. She heard the door open and close. She still couldn't help looking in the reflection, to see if she was really and truly alone.

“Good,” she said aloud, trying to mean it. 

 

* * *

 

“Good roof,” Ver'len Bard grunted. “Plumbing works. No ICS, if that's what you're looking for.”

Boba Fett supposed that was supposed to be a joke, since no one in their right mind would assume that houses in this rustic part of Concord Dawn had Internal Computer Systems. Perhaps the grizzled old Mandalorian was even goading him a little, implying that he was used to finer living arrangements. “Security?”

“Basic keypad on the front door. Deadbolt on the back.” Bard's worn and whiskered face creased into a grimace that vaguely resembled a smile. “Bunch of Mandos with guns all around.”

The bounty hunter took another look around at the interior of the small lodge. The structure itself was irrelevant, it was the location he was interested in. “Docking?”

“You saw the spaceport on the plains?”

“Looks deserted.”

“It is.” Bard scratched absently at an old scar on his thick neck. “Before the Clone Wars, some entrepreneurs from Keldabe thought they'd set up a trading route. Pacifists, you know? There was friction with the locals.” He shrugged. “It's not a defensible location, but we use the docking bays.”

Fett turned on the terramapping in his helmet and did a few calculations. Aleek Leebin's cave was about a day's rise to the west, past the ridge. He would need to handle it very carefully, because the former Grand Moff had somehow secured protection from the _Mand'alor_ , protection that had to come with very hefty price tag. 

“I'll take it,” he said to Bard.

“For how long?”

“I don't know yet. Is that a problem?”

The older man shifted and folded his over his armored chest. “Not necessarily.”

“I can pay a year's rent in advance.”

That earned him another dour look. “It's not a matter of money. We live close, and it's not easy living. No Protectors out here. Patrol duty is a one day cycle twice a month, no exceptions. We rotate command.”

Fett weighed this silently before deciding he could put up with it for a few months while he figured out how to extract Leebin. “Fine.”

“I'm not done. I need a reference.”

“A reference,” he repeated flatly. “You know who I am. What kind of reference do you want?”

“Out there,” Bard dismissed the rest of the galaxy with a curt gesture, “anyone can claim to be Boba Fett. It's different here. Jango grew up on the plains not far from here. There are folks here that knew him, people who remember when his dad was a Journeyman Protector. My wife and Jango's mother were cousins. You come here claiming to be Boba Fett, wanting to be neighbors. We like to know who our neighbors are.”

After a moment the bounty hunter unlocked and removed his helmet. He waited grimly, expecting some sort of reaction, but Bard looked him over and gave a shrug. “Good enough,” he said as he turned away. “My sister runs the town inn, she's a fine cook. Come fill your boots, yeah?”

 

 


	7. Coruscant Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boba Fett is taken prisoner by the Alliance. As usual, he finds a way out.

 

**Coruscant**

 

It was a mess right from the start, even before the Alliance sent troops to Concord Dawn. Twice they sent messages to Mandalore, requesting that Aleek Leebin be arrested and extradited to Coruscant for trial. Twice, Fenn Shysa refused. With so much attention on Leebin, Boba Fett was forced to put his own plans on hold. 

Then the Alliance landed on the ridge, far too close for his comfort. It seemed they were tired of asking nicely.

A few of the Mandalorian clans met up to show the Alliance scouts how they felt about trespassers, and it turned into a blood bath.

Fett was attempting to take over a transport with three other Mandalorians when the pilot got panicky and hit the self-destruct. He was lucky enough to be standing in front of an open hatch, hurling toward the ground was the last thing the bounty hunter remembered. 

Until he woke up, stripped of his armor and in restraints.

The officer standing over him was young, with smooth cheeks and clean-cut appearance. “We ran a genetics scan,” he said, grinning like a child who had just been given a present. “It returned almost three million matches in the archive. What's your name, clone?”

Fett didn't answer. The young officer's smile widened. “Where is Grand Moff Aleek Leebin?”

Again, he said nothing. He was watching his captor's eyes, and he didn't like what he saw.

“I will ask you the same questions in one standard hour,” the officer promised. “And you will answer them. Or I will be forced ask them again. And again. And again.” 

His name, Fett later learned, was Lieutenant Berai.

The first few days were more or less what he expected. They put him a cell that was barely tall enough to stand up in. He was injected daily with a standard chemical compound, a serum designed to lower his inhibitions and make it difficult to lie. He was fed sporadically, and when he tried to sleep, they blasted the cell with loud noises. Every few hours he would be dragged into the interrogation chamber, and forced to kneel while he waited for Berai to arrive. Sometimes it took minutes. Sometimes it took hours.

“Where is Grand Moff Aleek Leebin?” Berai would ask, over and over again. Fett never said a word. Silence was easier than trying to fight the serum.

The young Lieutenant seemed to enjoy his resistance at first. He meted out punishment in the form of stress positioning, electric shocks and nausea-inducing drugs. Sometimes the guards hit him, but they were careful about it. Berai never dirtied his hands, but he was always present. Fett had the distinct impression that there was no where else in the galaxy he would rather be. Sometimes, when the guards weren't present, Berai would rub his crotch like a teenage boy.

He started a list, a way of keeping order in his head. The first item was simple. He had to get out of here.

He had to get back to Concord Dawn before the Mandalorians declared him dead and dismantled _Slave I_ for scrap. They wouldn't care about flying it, or about trying to decode his files. They would detonate it and salvage anything usable. Mandalorians were efficient like that.

On day four of his captivity, he made his first escape attempt. He crippled a guard who was foolish enough to give him an opening, and made it as far as the level entrance before his stolen blaster ran out of charges. The computer in the detention level hallway defaulted to a directory of Coruscant. The locater also told him he was on level 0016, which meant there were 16 levels between him and the surface.

To punish him for the escape attempt, Berai had him stripped and strung up by his wrists, with his feet barely touching the floor. “Maybe it's time we tried something more old fashioned,” he said with barely concealed pleasure. One of the guards came into the chamber with a self-heating welding iron, and Fett started working on his list again. First, get out. Second, kill Lieutenant Berai.

They burned him twice on his upper back, near his shoulders. He didn't scream, but when they let him down the stench of his own scorched flesh made him fall to his knees and vomit. There wasn't much in his stomach to throw up. When he raised his head, Berai was watching him with that sick smile of his and he knew if they were alone the little pervert would be rubbing himself again. “You want to know where Leebin is?” he said, in a voice so hoarse he hardly recognized it as his own. 

Berai's eyes widened, he leaned in. “Tell me.”

“No,” he said. “I'll tell Leia Organa. No one else.” 

“AmbassadorLeia Organa? The princess?” Berai was clearly puzzled. “Why her?”

“My business,” growled Fett. “You want Leebin, bring me Ambassador Organa.”

“You forget your place, Prisoner 72508. You don't get to make demands.” Berai straightened and nodded to the guards. “Restrain him in position Sigma Four and leave him here for a few hours. No, let's make it an even four.”

It became harder to keep track of days and nights. He thought he'd been in prison for about a week when he made his second escape attempt.

This time he killed two guards and made it to the lift before they shut down the power down. He was on level 0004 when they overtook him with nearly thirty armed men, guards and soldiers. 

Lieutenant Berai was _livid_. He had a stun collar fitted around Fett's neck, and added four more burns to his back. The young officer was growing impatient with this game. The guards became less careful when they hit him. 

Fett revised his list. Getting out was still was first, but now he needed to add food and medical attention to the list. Maybe some rest. Then he would kill Berai.

He thought it was maybe the twelfth or thirteenth day when the guards entered his cell and handed him a clean prison uniform. They put heavy binders on his wrists and ankles and brought him to into the now-familiar interrogation chamber. He waited on his knees for what he guessed was close to two hours. Then Berai walked in, and Leia Organa was with him. 

The last time he saw her, she was covered in sand, her hair hastily braided, wearing clothes that didn't fit her. Now she was dressed immaculately in the ornate robes of a core politician, her hair gathered in some complicated configuration at the nape of her neck and dressed with jewels. She looked older and more beautiful than ever.

He expected her to give up his identity immediately, but she blinked once in recognition and didn't say a single word. Fett wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.

“I brought Ambassador Organa,” Berai said magnanimously. “You will speak only when spoken to, Prisoner 72508.”

Leia turned to look at the young Lieutenant. “He was taken on Mandalore?”

“He was with a group of Mandalorian Commandos who attacked our soldiers on Concord Dawn.”

“And he was the only one captured?”

“Yes, Ambassador. The Mandalorians were outnumbered three to one, but there were heavy casualties on both sides.” Berai looked very grave. “This man killed or injured at least a dozen of our soldiers.”

“How terrible.” She responded softly before turning to look at him. Her face showed only polite curiosity. “What was it you wanted to tell me?”

“Tell her where Leebin is,” Berai commanded. 

Fett spoke slowly and deliberately. “I said I would tell her and no one else. That includes you.”

The Lieutenant stared in shock at his usually mute prisoner and his voice rose an octave. “What did you say?”

“I want to see her alone,” he repeated with heavy condescension. “Are you deaf as well as stupid?”

Berai's hand went for the stun collar control, but he stopped himself. “Watch. Your. Tongue,” he said with ominous emphasis on the last word. Then he turned to Leia, who was watching the exchange with a slight frown. “I'm sorry, Ambassador. I seem to have wasted your time.” He extended his arm to usher her out of the room, but Leia didn't move. 

“Mandalorians fight in combat armor. With helmets.” She spoke to Berai, but her eyes were on Fett. “Why does he have bruises on his face?”

Boba Fett suppressed a rare urge to smile. 

“He attempted to escape,” Berai said stiffly. “Violence was necessary to contain him.” 

“Is that true?” She was addressing him now, but Fett took his time responding. Berai was becoming very agitated. 

“If you beat and burn your prisoners, chances are good they'll try to escape.”

The guards on either side of Fett shifted. Even they could tell this was going badly.

“Where's the infirmary?” Leia asked, and Berai turned white as a moon. 

“With all due respect, Ambassador, this is unnecessary. He's trying to manipulate you.” 

“That is certainly a possibility,” she agreed.

“All legal protocols have been followed,” Berai insisted. “He's just a clone.”

There was a pause, and then Leia spoke in the same quiet and polite tone. “Have your men take him into the infirmary. I'll question him there.”

“I can't let you question him alone. It's a security issue.”

She raised her eyebrows. “A _security_ issue, Lieutenant? If you contact the command center, I think you'll find I have the clearance. Give me the stun collar control and I'll handle this as quickly as possible.” She paused again, an undercurrent of steel in her tone. “I would hate to initiate a formal investigation of your questioning methods without cause.”

Berai shot Fett a poisonous look, one that promised retribution.“Take him to the infirmary,” he told the guards with a sneer. “Make sure his restraints are tight.”

His legs protested painfully as he stood, but things were progressing and it gave him new energy. A few minutes later he was standing in the middle of the infirmary, a room he'd never seen before now. Leia kept a careful distance between them, the stun collar control in her hand. 

“I want to help you,” she said quietly. “But you have to tell me the truth.”

“Of course.”

She came closer cautiously, her eyes searching his face. “Did you really try to escape?”

“Twice.”

“And he beat you in retaliation?”

“No,” Fett held her steady gaze. “He burned me in retaliation. With a welding iron.”

Leia flinched. “Where?”

“On my back.”

She looked down at the binders, then at the one-piece prison uniform. “I'm going to take the binders off your wrists. I want you to put your hands on your head, and if you move them an inch without my permission, I will stun you. Is that clear?”

“Yes.” 

She released his hands and Fett obediently raised them to his head and locked his fingers together. She nodded and gave him a quick smile. “It's not that I don't trust you,” she said with an attempt at dry humor. “I just that I've had a long day, and I really don't feel like being a hostage.”

“Understood.”

She opened the uniform down the front, a little color rising into her cheeks. “Turn around.” When he did, she touched his right arm. “Lower this arm, slowly.” She worked the uniform down off of one arm, revealing more bruises, and marks from where the restraints had cut into his skin. He couldn't see her face, but her breathing rate had picked up. She did the same with the other arm, and then tugged the uniform down to his waist so she could see all of his back. 

For a long moment, she was silent. When she spoke there was a reassuring anger in her voice. “That slimy, creepy, no-good, lying sack of bantha fodder.”

“He's a talented man, Lieutenant Berai. Very enthusiastic about his work. Where did the Alliance find him?”

“I don't know, but I'm going to send him back, minus his skin.” She went to the nearest medical supply cabinet and started pulling out bacta gel and bandages. “I'll have him court-marshaled. Standing right there and lying to my face-”

He flinched when she touched him. More from habit than discomfort, but she took a deep breath and adopted a gentler tone of voice. “If you told him who you were, he would have sent for me sooner.”

“He sent for you anyway.”

“I'm giving you a localized tranq shot now.” The needle bit into his skin. She waited a few seconds, then started to spread bacta gel over the burns. Fett gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay still. 

“This is different, isn't it?” She said wryly. “Usually I'm the one in chains.”

He turned his head slightly to see her face, careful not to move his hands. “Do you feel that we're even now?”

“Oh no,” she kept her tone light. “Not until I've drawn the symbol of the Alliance on you.”

“By all means,” he replied, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. “With a knife, if it pleases you and gets me out of here.”

She pressed her lips together, and anger flickered in her eyes. “Do you really know where Leebin is, or was that just a trick to get me down here?”

“I know where he is.” He saw no reason to fight the drugs now. “But I can't tell you. That part was a trick.”

Leia circled around him and carefully applied bacta to some of the cuts and bruises on his face. After weeks of being grabbed, shoved and hit, her gentle hands felt better than anything in the galaxy. Or almost anything. Touching her would be better. Peeling those thick, heavy robes off of her until he could see every slender curve, every inch of pale, soft flesh. For a moment the pain faded into the background, and he saw her perched on the med supply cart behind her, her legs spread, her gentle hand guiding his cock into her hot center.

His list could still be amended. First, get out. Second, fuck Leia again, third-

Her fingers brushed against his ribs cage. “Did they feed you?”

Third, eat something. “Sometimes.” 

Her hands stopped where the uniform was bunched at his hips. “Any other injuries I should see?”

Fett shrugged. “A few more bruises. Look if you want,” he added, letting his voice drop to a deeper, more intimate tone. “Nothing you haven't seen.”

A warm flush spread into her cheeks, but she didn't look away. Neither did she move her hands. “How many Mandalorians died when you were captured?”

“I don't know. A dozen, maybe more.”

“Friends of your yours?”

“No. Neighbors. Maybe a few distant relatives.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You have family on Concord Dawn?”

“No.”

Leia gave him a skeptical looks and touched a well-used needle site on his arm. “That's a contradictory statement, Fett. Whatever they're injecting you with must not be working.”

“We share a few strands of DNA. That doesn't make them family.”

“Fair enough.” She tilted her head to one side, searching his face. “Why were you fighting for them?” Her hands were still at his hips, the thumb and forefinger of her right hand just barely under the edge of the uniform. 

He'd forgotten how attractive she was when she was trying to manipulate him. Would she really stun him if he moved his hands? Even if she didn't, she might not be receptive to his advances. Han Solo had been back at work on the Outer Rim for several months now, but that didn't necessarily mean their affair had concluded. 

“It's in the terms of my lease,” he tried, but the result was unconvincing, even to his own ears. “I feel sick,” he said instead, a true statement he could deliver without difficulty. “Can this wait until later?”

She grabbed a basin off the med cart quickly. She held it up, he noticed, she didn't hand it to him. Fett wasn't sure whether he was more amused or impressed by her caution. “No,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “Not that kind of sick. Just...tired and in pain.” It went strongly against his grain to admit weakness, but in this case it worked for him. Leia's expression softened, and she put down the basin and moved away.

“I'll get you a stim shot and something for the pain.”

He might as well press the advantage if he could. “Can I put my hands down?”

“No.” She returned and filled the syringe. “Aleek Leebin oversaw some of the worst Imperial penal colonies and death camps for twenty years. Why should Mandalorians fight and die to protect him?” Leia swabbed his left hip with a sterilizing cloth and stuck the needle in without flinching.

“It's wasn't my decision,” Fett replied. “The _Mand'alor_ gave him sanctuary.”

This was obviously news to Leia, and unwelcome news at that. “Fenn Shysa is protecting him?” 

“You know him.”

“I thought I did,” she said with a frown. “But the Fenn Shysa I knew would never side with the Empire. Not after what they did to Mandalore.”

“Mandalore needs money to get industry moving again. Leebin has money.” He was talking more than he should be, at least without securing the terms of his release. “If you need me to tell you this, either your Outer Rim intelligence is shit, or your security clearance isn't as high as you think.”

She shot him a quick, irritated look. “We're trying to rebuild a Republic,” Leia said tersely. “Believe it or not, Leebin isn't the biggest threat we're facing. I would be more concerned about losing Mandalore as an ally, but we can't afford to back down. We're barely holding the Core, if we show the slightest hint of weakness -” She stopped abruptly, perhaps realizing she was also saying more than she should. Leia stepped closer to him again, tipping her head back to look him in the eye. “I heard a rumor that you'd retired from hunting. Is that true?”

“No,” he said, annoyed by the question. “I've been keeping a low profile, that's all.”

“Because of the Katellian job?” She smiled wryly. “I heard about that one. It made the news, even though most of the major stations never gave your name.” She paused, her eyes still fixed on his face. “You could bring Leebin in, couldn't you? Without causing an intergalactic incident. What would it take?”

Fett thought about his list. “I want to be released. Now.”

“A pardon will take time,” Leia said carefully. “I don't have that kind of authority. I can have you moved to an Embassy guest room under guard.”

“No. No more guards.” He looked down at her. “I'll stay with you.”

“With me?” She echoed incredulously. “I can't just take a prisoner home with me.”

“If you want Leebin, find a way.”

Leia narrowed her eyes, but after a tense minute she spoke again. “I could get a transfer authorized and make the location classified if I call the right people. What else?”

“Twenty percent increase on the bounty.”

“Ten.”

“Fifteen,” he said flatly. “For my time and...inconvenience.”

“Fine. Anything else?”

“Berai,” he said, because it would look suspicious if he didn't. “What happens to him?”

“He's done. Career over, and charges pending, as far as I'm concerned.” She took a step back, her back straight, her chin up. “Is it a deal?”

Fett took a deep breath. “It's a deal the second I see daylight.”

Her steady gaze faltered. “Sorry,” she said with a rueful smile. “The sun set hours ago.”

Less than two hours later, he was standing in the 'fresher in Leia's apartment, looking at one of Coruscant's moons through the skylight. The stim shot was wearing off, but food and a hot shower lent him a little more time, and he intended to use his energy wisely. 

Leia's residence was comfortable, affluent and generically tasteful. There were no personal pictures in the living room or bedroom. The closet was open, and filled to capacity with expensive clothing. There was no razor in her 'fresher, and no indication that she had any regular male guests.

Fett wrapped a towel around his waist and walked through the bedroom, moving noiselessly through the alcove into the open living space. Leia was laying a blanket on the couch, she didn't see him until he was within arm's reach. “Nice shower, isn't it? Did you-”

The moment his mouth touched hers, everything else burned to ashes. His plan was simple. Get her naked, get her to the bed. Or close enough. This once, half-measures would be allowed. 

Her heavy outer cloak dropped to the floor while they were still in the living room. He pulled her toward the bedroom and she stumbled, her back hitting the wall in the alcove as they kissed again and he unclasped her belt. Next was a transparent tunic, the billowing sleeves fastened tight at the cuff. His fingers were shaking, it took all of his concentration to find the buttons. 

“We don't have to do this now,” she said breathlessly. He got her left hand free and her palm came to rest on his neck, over a bruise he earned by not getting to his feet fast enough when told. She touched the red marks the restraints left in his bicep, and her lips pressed into a thin, serious line. 

Fett finally got her right hand free and was frustrated by the realization that she was still fully dressed. Under the tunic was a tight, corset-like top and a long skirt made out of the same heavy fabric as her cloak. How many layers could she have on? Under different circumstances, he might have enjoyed the challenge, but right now he was running out of time. 

Leia was looking down at the bruises on his wrists, her fingers tracing dark red fissures where his skin had chafed and broken after too many hours in binders. The blood had dripped down the inside of the cuff and made crimson spots on his prison uniform. He could still see Berei's face, the eager, almost child-like joy in his eyes as he reached out a finger to touch a dot of crimson on his thigh. 

“You've been through a lot,” she said. “This can wait.” 

He pulled Leia back into his arms, warm and tangible proof that Berei couldn't touch him now. His hand went to the elaborate bun in her hair and his fingers closed around it, forcing her to look up. “I can't wait.”

Something flickered in her dark eyes, something he hoped was understanding, because the next second they were fused together again and pushing blindly toward the bed. His hands went up over the swell of her breasts and found the hooks at the top of her corset. “Don't-” she gasped, a second before several of the fasteners went flying. Any further protests turned quickly to to a moan the second he touched her bare skin.

She half-fell, half sat on the bed, her skirt twisted inconveniently around her legs. With a growl Fett flipped her over, only to be thwarted by the laces that closed her skirt up the back. _Laces_? How the hell did she lace it herself? He gave up, shoving the entire bunch of fabric up over her ass. Leia gave a startled cry when he grabbed her legs and dragged her down, positioning her on the edge of the bed.

She twisted her head around, her eyes wide. He had to be more careful. If he was too rough, she would never let him touch her again. 

But when he touched her she whimpered, her back arching towards his fingers and his self control almost shattered. He remembered this from Tatooine, the shape of her hips in his hands and the way she tried not to cry out. Her hands fisted the bedspread, her heat wrapped around him like salvation and the past blurred into the present. It was a race between exhaustion and release now.

Release won out in the end, but exhaustion took him down with the force of gravity immediately after. Leia squirmed out from under him, and he was powerless to stop her. She stood and slid her fingers down the side of her cumbersome skirt, the pressure clasps came open immediately. 

Oh. That was how she did it. 

She looked over her shoulder and gave him a bemused look before walking off toward the 'fresher. He couldn't remember closing his eyes, but he was on the edge of complete unconsciousness when she returned. The mattress sank beneath her weight, and then her fingers brushed lightly over his hip.

His opened his eyes. She had a slender cosmetics pencil in her hand, her lips pressed together in concentration as she traced the round symbol of the Alliance in red on his skin. “There,” she said as she tossed the pencil aside. “Now we're even. Next time, we meet as equals.”

Fett reached out and pulled her down beside him. He needed sleep now. Days and days of sleep. 

A few seconds passed peacefully, and he was almost gone again when Leia spoke.

“Did you know Darth Vader is my biological father?”

His eyes opened of their own volition this time. He raised his head enough to look into her eyes, and she stared back at him nervously. “I guess not,” she said with a pained smile. “I thought you might have heard.”

He shook his head silently, and after a moment, she continued. “Before he was a Sith, he was a Jedi named Anakin Skywalker. He was married to my mother, Padme Amidala. Hey-” Her fingers pulled at his hand. “That hurts.”

He hadn't realized he was holding her arm so tightly. He let go immediately, shutting out any thought of red sand, fluttering wings and a hundred glowing blades in the dusty air. Now was the time to be savoring his victory, Leia's soft body and Berai's imminent and painful demise. He deeply resented the intrusion of the past.

“It was a surprise to me too,” Leia continued slowly. “Also, Luke is my twin brother.” She seemed to be waiting for him to say something. 

“I don't see the resemblance.”

Her mouth quirked up into a smile. “Me either.”

“Vader didn't know?”

“You'd think he would have, would you?” Leia asked, her voice heavy with bitterness. “All that time _questioning_ me, _torturing_ me...but no, I don't think he knew.” She paused and then sighed. “I haven't handled it well. I haven't seen Luke in weeks, and Han...” She looked away, awkwardly. “It didn't work out. But I guess you must have heard that.”

It _was_ mildly reassuring to know that the smuggler wasn't going to be dropping by any time soon. For that matter, he wasn't eager to see the Jedi who's sister he'd just fucked either. Fett patted her shoulder clumsily, hoping that she was going to shut up now. It would be very rude to fall asleep while she was still talking. 

“Luke thinks I'm running from myself. He wants me to embrace my power, and train as a Jedi.” Her voice took on a sharp edge. “I told him I would never, under any circumstances, follow the same path as Darth Vader. The Galactic Senate is reforming next spring, and since I no longer have a homeworld to represent, I have to find a new world or a new role.” She squirmed a little. “Boba?”

“Yes?”

She turned slightly towards him, her voice quiet. “I guess what I'm trying to say is, the only thing I have left is my political career. So when you kill Berei, it can't be traced back to me.”

Once again he was surprised, but this time he knew what to say. He looked into her eyes and nodded once in agreement. “I can wait. Until after I've delivered Leebin.”

Leia seemed to relax a little at that. She laid her arm tentatively over his, snuggling down into the bed. “You should really get some sleep,” she suggested.

His mouth twitched, but his eyes were shut before the action was even complete.

 

 

 

 


	8. Coruscant Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An exchange of prisoners and a farewell.

 

 

 

Her alarm hadn't been set, but she woke up at the usual time anyway. Leia knew immediately that something was different, she knew she wasn't alone. Fragments of memory began to fall into place as she turned, very carefully, to look at the man sleeping in bed beside her. 

Damn it. How did this happen again?

She sat up, prompting only the slightest stirring from Boba Fett. He was out cold, and for a moment she forgot her own consternation. His entire body was story of brutality and resolve, told in lines of abraded skin and patterns of bruising. One of the patch bandages on his back had come loose, and the sight of the raw flesh beneath it made her wince.

In spite of his battered condition, he slept deeply and peacefully, his face half-buried in his pillow. The normally hard lines of his face were softened by slumber and blurred by dark stubble. His hair was a little longer, and starting to curl at the top. Leia almost reached out to smooth it down, but dismissed the impulse as silly. 

She remembered her shock when she walked into that cell, the moment he lifted his head and looked into her eyes. Without his armor, his helmet, his weapons, and his reputation, he wasn't Boba Fett. And if he wasn't Boba Fett, then he was just a clone, with only the vaguest semblance of legal personhood, let along rights.

It could have gotten much worse if Fett hadn't convinced Berai to send for her. He knew she would help him. Because her conscience demanded it, certainly, and because she owed him, and because he was holding on to a vital piece of information that the Alliance needed. And even with that assurance, she wondered if there had been some measure of calculation in the decision to sleep with her again.

It certainly hadn't seemed calculated. She had started to tell him that he was welcome to her bed, and that he should rest, and the next minute her back hit the wall and his tongue was in her mouth. For a crazy moment she thought “wait, that's not what I meant,” before she remembered that she hadn't had a chance to speak at all.

She had said _something_ , though she was so flustered she wasn't sure exactly what she'd said or if made any logical sense. What she remembered was the look in his eyes when she fell onto the bed. Dark, intense and damn near feral. 

After what he'd been through, it was understandable that he would turn to the most convenient source of physical release. And if she was being completely honest with herself, being wanted so badly, with such terrifying urgency, felt like exactly what _she_ needed. After pushing Han and Luke and everyone else away, the loneliness had finally gotten to her. 

That probably also explained what happened afterward. Her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment as she remembered the conversation they'd had before he fell asleep. Had she really said all that? About Darth Vader and Luke? Her eyes went to the smudged red symbol of the Alliance she'd drawn on his hip and she wanted to cover her face in horror. It was probably sheer exhaustion alone that kept him here when any sane man would have slipped out of bed and left before the crazy girl woke up.

With effort, Leia swallowed her shame. No more crazy, she told herself sternly. When Fett woke up, she would tell him that he was her guest and welcome to her bed, but she wouldn't be sharing it with him. He would understand the practicality of such an arrangement. He might even be relieved.

She turned and started to slide out of bed, startled when strong fingers wrapped around her wrist and held tight. Perhaps he wasn't as dead to the world as she'd assumed. He didn't lift his face from the pillow, but one eye opened. “Are you coming back?” 

“No,” was what she meant to say. “I have some work to do, go back to sleep.” And then she looked down at his hand holding her wrist and said “yes” instead. 

He released her arm and shut his eyes again. “Bring food.”

“Okay.” Leia replied automatically. She turned her back to him and stared blankly at the wall for a moment. She was really going to do this. She _wanted_ to do this.

It felt strange to admit it, but acceptance brought a certain calm with it. She put her feet firmly on the floor. Food was a good idea. She was starving.

 

* * *

 

 

Leia reached the shipping quadrant ahead of schedule, so she took her time. She'd always enjoyed the hustle and bustle, the sentient beings of all shapes and sizes from every corner of the galaxy, all in a hurry. She bought a bag of candied cruskis and took the slower, more scenic lift up to the landing platforms.

It was good to be out and about. Her life had taken on a grim monotony lately, one of meetings and committees and never-ending paperwork. Then Boba Fett turned up and she'd spent almost the entire week in her apartment while he convalesced. He seemed to feel it was necessary to test his strength by having sex as often as possible, on every applicable surface in her apartment.

It was a strange, intense seven days, but Leia had enjoyed it. It was fun to have a secret, to put off meetings and order in food and pretend she hadn't gotten Luke's messages. She tended to the bounty hunter's burns and bruises and sometimes in those quiet moments, or the ones that followed sex, she talked about Darth Vader and he listened. 

Fett held a uniquely neutral perspective on the Sith Lord, and she appreciated that. The morning before he left for Concord Dawn, she tried to demonstrate her appreciation in the shower and nearly drowned for her trouble. But when she thought about the way he smiled at her afterward, his brown eyes warm with amusement and satisfaction...it was worth it. 

“Hey, Lady. You gonna get off or what?”

Leia started, realizing that the lift had reached it's destination, and she blocking the exit. “Sorry,” she murmured to the portly man behind her. He took one look at her flushed face and gave her a leering smile. 

“Hey, it's no problem. You need help finding something? Pretty thing like you shouldn't be out here all alone.”

“No, thank you,” she replied quickly. The docking bay was still a mile away across the platform, but she could see the outline of the ship, an ugly old freighter called _The_ _Asteroid Queen_. He was early.

When she got closer she saw that he'd acquired some cargo for the sake of appearances. Two generic shipping crates, three feet square. He was sitting on one them, slouched forward with his arms on his knees. Leia saw a docking official approaching and slowed her step, munching on her snack as if she were merely talking stroll. She looked at Boba Fett and tried to see what the official saw, an ordinary, dark-haired man, rough and unshaven, wearing a coat with the name of a well-known delivery company on the back. 

“Right,” she heard the official say with a practiced air of inconvenience, “you're the captain?”

“That's right.” Fett handed over his fake ID and waited patiently while it was scanned. If he was aware of Leia's presence, he gave no indication of it. 

“Just these two crates? What's the cargo?”

“Statues. For some art thing in the university.” He was speaking with accent, the one that usually hovered over certain syllables or words was suddenly much thicker and rougher. “It's all there on the boxes, mate.”

“Yeah, yeah, I see.” A few swipes of his scanner, and the official handed him the ID card back and slapped pink stickers on the crates. “You're set. Try not to be here all day, all right? Soon as your cargo gets picked up, shift it.”

“You got it.” 

The docking official hurried on to the next ship. Fett's gaze shifted over to her, the slightest tilt of his head telling her she could safely approach. 

“You look bored,” she observed, sliding up on the crate next to him. “Have you been here for long?”

“Not that long.” 

He was watching her lick the sticky syrup from the cruskis off her fingers. She held out the bag, but he shook his head. “Try one,” she said. “You should have one last reminder of what real food tastes like.”

It was one of the things she knew about him after spending a week in his company. He preferred simple foods, nothing too spicy, too strong or too sweet. Leia suspected his usual diet consisted entirely of packaged rations and protein cubes.

She took one of the cruskis from the bag and held it out. He eyed it for a moment and then took it, slowly and gingerly, and put it in his mouth. Leia tried to suppress her smile. “Well?”

“It's too sweet.” He looked at the sticky residue on his fingers with a faint expression of annoyance. Leia shook her head and finished off the bag. 

“So,” she said she crumpled up the paper sack, “Where is he?”

Fett tapped the crate under him with his fingertips, and Leia froze, sure he couldn't be serious. “Don't worry,” he said, “his air supply should last for another six hours.” He slid off the crate and activated the repulsor lift beneath it with a small control.

She was still staring at the crate, all too aware that there was a man curled up in that tiny prison. It made her own chest feel tight just thinking about it. Fett moved in front of her, tucking the control in her jacket pocket, and she forgot about Leebin. He put his hands on her face and kissed her. It was supposed to be a goodbye kiss, but she responded the way seven days together had conditioned her to respond.

The embrace got far more heated than it should have gotten in such a public place. When they broke apart, she looked ruefully at her hands. One of her fingers still had syrup on it and had left a visible print on his neck. “Sorry,” she said, her cheeks hot. “My hands are still sticky.”

He caught her hand and put two of her fingers in his mouth, sucking lightly. Leia's blush intensified. “What are you _doing_?”

“Helping you solve a problem,” he replied calmly, moving on to her thumb.

“I thought you didn't like the taste.”

“It's not bad like this.”

She recognized that calculating look. He was thinking about logistics, about _where_ and _when_ and _how_. His eyes went past her to the old freighter, but then dropped reluctantly to the crates. Something occurred to Leia, and she tugged her hand free. “Wait,” she said, careful to keep her voice low. “If Leebin is in _that_ crate...” He was following her train of thought, and his expression immediately became more guarded. It had to be Berai in the other crate, the one she was _sitting_ on while making out with Boba Fett. 

No wonder he was in a such a good mood, she thought with a flash of annoyance. He must have arrived at Coruscant much earlier, possibly even the day before, tracked down Berai and boxed him up. And he hadn't told her anything about it. Either he was trying to shield her from any culpability, or he didn't trust her. Or both, she decided wryly. No reason it couldn't be both.

Leia drew in a deep breath. “What are you going to do to him?”

His eyes flickered to hers, wary and speculative. “Do you really want to know?” 

“Yes.”

“I'm going to jettison him into an asteroid field.”

She watched his face closely, and decided she believed him. It wasn't pretty, but there were much more horrible ways to die. “That should end it quickly.”

“Maybe. There's a chance the crate could be damaged enough for him to suffocate first, but the odds are in his favor.”

He said it so casually, a simple matter of fact. Leia grimaced and looked away. She couldn't go back on her word now, but part of her still felt uncomfortable with the part she'd played in this. This was her hard-won New Republic, there should be justice under the law. “It's not too late to go the court martial route. If you testify, he would be locked up in prison, Possibly for the rest of his life.”

His jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed, even his posture changed ever so slightly. For a breathless moment, Leia wondered what exactly he would do if she tried to stop him. Not kill her, certainly, but his mind was made up. She would not be permitted to interfere. He might abduct her, keep her bound and gagged on the freighter until Berai was dealt with. It flashed hot in her mind, the idea of having rough, angry sex, her hands still bound, while Berai floated off to his death.

She dropped her chin and shook her head to dispel the absurd fantasy. Any time her imagination ran dark these days, it brought the unwelcome thought that maybe it was her inheritance from her biological father. Maybe it was some hint of what she could become.

“They'll be someone else,” Fett said abruptly, she looked up. “Even if he goes to prison. He'll find someone else to hurt. Someone weak and helpless.”

“You think he saw you as weak and helpless?”

“He saw me as a clone,” he replied, a sharp edge in his voice. He took a look around, at the masses of humans and creatures scurrying from dock to dock without so much as a glance in their direction. “It used to be harder than this. Especially in the Core.” He nodded his head toward the long row of bars and cantinas that surrounded the docking bay, providing the laborers and pilots with plenty of opportunities to spend their paychecks. “I was here on a job once, about twelve years ago. I was trying to blend in, get some information. An off-duty Coruscant guard recognized my face. He called me Imperial property and said he'd report me as a deserter unless I went with him to a hotel room.”

Leia stared at him, her eyes wide with horror. “What did you do?”

Fett shrugged. “Didn't have much of a choice. I went with him.” A smile slowly spread over his face. “I broke both of his arms, his nose, and three of his ribs.”

She laughed, more a release of nervous air than anything else. “But you didn't kill him.”

“I was young. I thought if someone gave him a bad enough beating, maybe he'd stop.”

“Maybe he did.”

“They never do.”

There was a sober pause, and then Fett tilted his head one side. “You killed Jabba, didn't you? Personally.”

She folded her arms tightly, as if she could still feel the vibration of the deck cannon in her bones. “Yes.”

“Do you regret it? Do you feel remorse?”

“That's different,” she insisted, “he wasn't-”

“Human?”

“No, that's not what I meant -” she picked up the crumpled paper sack and crushed it even tighter in her fist. “I just don't,” Leia admitted slowly. “I've never felt bad about it for a minute.” Darth Vader rose up like a black shadow over her mind, but she pushed him away. She wasn't wrong to kill Jabba. She couldn't be. “He was a monster,” she finally said. “He didn't deserve to live.”

The bounty hunter lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Your joke,” he said, changing the subject. “You never told me how it ends.”  
“What joke?”

He folded his arms over his chest, leaning back against the crate. “A Hutt walks into a bar on Ord Mantell,” he said impatiently. “That one. What does the bartender say?”

Leia started to speak, but was cut off by a sharp voice. “Hey, pal. I got other ships waiting, you done here or what?” The docking official was back, he took one look at Leia sitting on the crate and his face darkened with frustration. “You wanna ride that box outta here, Lady? Be my guest. Just get going, already!”

She slid off and smiled tightly at the man. “My apologies.” She turned to Fett, her tone of voice crisp and professional. “We'll take the one of the lift, but the other will have to be taken back to the storage facility. There's simply no more room in the exhibit.”

“That's not in my flight plan,” he grumbled, but Leia caught the hint of approval in his eyes. “Who's going to pay for it?”

She shrugged as if she couldn't care less. “Submit an invoice to university procurement if you like. Just don't expect a quick response.” A credit chit changed hands, too quickly for the docking official to see it's denomination. “Thank you,” she said formally. “For your work, and the very...interesting discussion.”

“Anytime,” Fett replied, but of course it wouldn't be anytime soon. It might not be anytime ever. Leia activated the repulsor lift and turned to go, taking Leebin's portable prison with her. 

She was only a few steps away when she heard the docking official say “this isn't a bar, buddy. Next time you want to pick up a girl, try asking if you can buy her a drink.”

 


	9. Concord Dawn Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It always made her a little dizzy, looking down the barrel of a blaster rifle and knowing that before she took her next breath, she could be dead.

**Concord Dawn**

 

It always made her a little dizzy, looking down the barrel of a blaster rifle and knowing that before she took her next breath, she could be dead.

But Leia Organa took her next breath, and the dizziness passed. She looked past the gun at the Mandalorian welding it, excruciatingly aware that whatever she did next could determine her fate, as well as the fate of her Zeltron guards.

"We came to your world in peace," she said to the eight armed Mandalorians surrounding them. "My name is Leia Organa, I'm an ambassador of the Republic. The charts listed Aray'get as the nearest neutral space port. It was not our intention to trespass or cause trouble."

There was no response from the soldiers, no indication good or bad.

C-3PO stirred anxiously to her right. "Excuse me, Mistress Leia, shall I translate? Concord Dawn is a remote world, it's possible they haven't reached the same standard of language as Mandalore."

The blast hit C-3PO in the chest, separating his limbs from his torso immediately and sending him tumbling into the dust in pieces. The power indicator lights in his eyes sputtered once, and then shut off.

Leia stood frozen, staring at the remains of the droid in shock. She slowly turned her head toward the Mandalorian who had fired. The fact that this Mandalorian was woman registered uselessly in the back of her mind. Her blaster was now aimed at Leia's head.

" _Cetar._ "

The word might be foreign, but meaning was clear enough. Leia knelt in the dirt, and her Zeltron escorts followed suit. The other Mandalorians circled them, efficiently relieving them of their weapons.

"We didn't come here to fight," she tried again. "I'm a diplomat. If you'll allow us to return to our ship, I would be happy to show you my credentials."

What she really needed was some hint as to who these particular Mandalorians patrolled for. They all wore armor and helmets, but there was no common insignia or colors to indicate rank. They might be the local police or they might be a band of mercenaries.

The woman seemed to be in charge. One of the others made an impatient gesture with his gun, and she barked an order in response. "Commander," Leia said to her, encouraged when her helmet turned. At the very least she understood that word. "I believe there's someone who might be able to clear this up. Do you know Boba Fett?"

"Boba Fett?" She repeated. " _Vaabir gar kar'taylir_  Boba Fett?"

"Yes," Leia said carefully. "Boba Fett. Is he...does he still live around here?"

There was some silent communication among the Mandalorians while Leia's heart pounded furiously. She'd heard nothing from the bounty hunter since they parted ways on Coruscant, and she had no idea what Fett's current standing with the Mandalorians might be.

The commander raised her rifle abruptly and motioned for her prisoners to stand. Through sign language she managed to convey that they should walk single file, their hands on their heads. Two of her men gathered Threepio's remains into a mesh sack, which Leia hoped was a good sign. She expected that they would be taken back to the empty spaceport, but instead their captors directed them north towards the mountains.

It was a long walk. The Mandalorians allowed them short periods of rest, but the sun was setting and they were in a hurry. After the first two miles, her throat ached with thirst and the fine gray dust from the plains clung to her sweaty skin. When she managed a glance back at the Zeltrons, she could see the same weariness in their eyes, but none of them were stupid enough to complain.

The first evening stars were beginning to appear when they passed through a rocky crag and Leia finally saw a row of rough-hewn houses nestled into the mountain. The settlement was small, but full of life. Children ran between the houses, laughing and shouting, and there was a lingering smell of dinner in the air. Men and women, some in armor and some not, began to take notice of the prisoners being marched through town.

The children returned to their houses, silent and watchful. Blasters and other weapons began to appear. Leia even saw one old woman brandishing her broom as if the unarmed prisoners might need a good thrashing.

The female commander dropped the mesh sack with Threepio's dismembered body on the ground, and strode up to a group gathered around a table at the far end of the town square. "Fett!  _Vaabir gar kar'taylir ibic dala_?"

It took her a moment to pick him out of the crowd. He was wearing his armor, but not his helmet. Boba Fett turned to look to where the commander was pointing, and Leia's sigh of relief caught in her throat. He didn't exactly look pleased to see her. He said something to the people at the table and started walking towards her.

When he was a few paces away, Leia started to offer some form of greeting, but he didn't stop. She was suddenly crushed against his breastplate, one gloved hand on the back of her neck while he kissed her in a way that suggested he was actually very,  _very_  pleased to see her. It was so unexpected that she froze at first, her hands still locked on her head. Then he released her and she stumbled back, dropping her hands awkwardly to her sides. Her cheeks were hot, and she could feel the incredulous stares of the Zeltron guards.

"I don't want you to think that I'm not happy to see you," she told Fett, "but you're damaging my professional credibility."

"Good." He took a quick look around, the tension in his eyes a direct contrast to his mild tone. "What are you doing here?" They were no longer being menaced with blasters, Leia noted. Their guards had relaxed and most of the townspeople seemed to have returned to their business. "Leia." He said, and she quickly snapped back to him.

"I'm on a diplomatic mission. But the spaceport was deserted and then your friends showed up and blasted my translator."

"A diplomatic mission," he repeated.

"That's what I just said." Leia brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Her fingertips came away gray, and she made a futile attempt to brush the dust off on her equally dirty jacket.

"You landed in Aray'get?"

"Yes."

"Long walk. You must be tired."

"Very tired," she agreed. "Thirsty, too."

"Come with me," he said, turning back toward the square. "Bring your men."

He took her directly to the table in the square. Half a dozen people in armor sat around it, their helmets lined up neatly in the middle. A few words in Mando'a were exchanged and someone brought out a pitcher and cups. Leia accepted a cup of water gratefully. She saw the female commander remove her helmet and join the group at the table. The man on the bench next to her put his arm around and her asked her a question, but she shook her head and gestured at Fett.

A gray-haired man in old, scarred armor repeated the same question, his tone abrupt and unfriendly. The bounty hunter gave an even reply, and the atmosphere relaxed a little.

The woman said something, motioning toward her former prisoners and Fett nodded once. Then he said something Leia thought was probably about her, given the way everyone's eyes shifted towards her. The gray-haired Mandalorian made a curt remark, and Fett shrugged, his answer equally short. Leia was tired of being left out of the conversation. She caught Fett's attention and gave him a frustrated look.

"The one who found you, that's Hira." He explained with a nod at the female commander. "Her mother has an inn, she'll house your escorts. You're staying with me."

Leia hesitated. As much as she needed to talk to the bounty hunter in private, she didn't want to jeopardize her standing as a diplomat by making this seem like a social call. "Thank you, but you don't have to do that. I'll stay with my men."

"I insist." He said it with no discernible change of expression, but Leia had the distinct impression that her opinion on the matter was irrelevant. She frowned at him, ready to argue, but he spoke first. "It's the least I can do after your hospitality on Coruscant."

The thought of what her "hospitality" included left her momentarily flustered. She quickly raised her cup to her lips and drained it, hoping her face was too dirty to show the blush creeping into her cheeks.

"It's this way," he said, picking up the sack with Threepio's remains in it. She set down her empty cup and held out her hand to stop him.

"How do I say 'thank you' for the water?"

Fett turned back to look at the Mandalorians sitting at the table. He seemed to be waiting for one of them to speak, but no one said a word. " _Usen'ye_ ," he finally told Leia.

" _Usen'ye_ ," she repeated uncertainly to the group at the table. No one so much as blinked. Then the old man picked up his own cup, his eyes on Fett. "You're welcome," he said gruffly before he took a drink. He spoke with a heavy accent, but his Basic was perfectly understandable. Leia was beginning to get the uncomfortable suspicion that these people were more bilingual than they let on.

The Zeltrons seemed to be adapting quickly to their upgrade from captives to guests. An older woman was plying them with baskets of dark bread and a bottle of something that was undoubtedly not water. She made brief eye contact with their captain, and he waved her off, so she turned to follow Fett.

"Not the friendliest bunch," Leia said dryly when they were out of earshot. "But I'm sure once you get to know them they're-"

"Some of the clans in this sector will pay a bounty for Alliance corpses. Did you know that?"

Her steps faltered slightly. "I heard rumors."

"They're not rumors," he said shortly. "Decent money, too. Especially out here."

Leia thought about the blaster muzzle aimed at her head, and swallowed hard. "It's the Republic now," she continued stubbornly. "And that kind of hostility is exactly why I'm here." He didn't comment."What exactly did you tell them about me?"

"I told them you were a friend." Fett stopped in front of a small, lodge-like structure and opened the door. It was one room and a 'fresher, besides a few metal lockers stacked against the wall, the only furniture was a wooden table and a simple bed.

"Cozy," she said, unable to hide the edge in her voice. "Are you sure that's all you told them?"

"I said that you were my friend, and that you would be staying with me."

"In a house with one bed."

He looked over at the bed and then back at her, his face unreadable. "Is that a problem?"

"It's not exactly diplomatic protocol," she replied tersely. "And it does seem a little presumptuous, considering we haven't spoken in three months."

He took a moment to consider that. "You're the one who came to find me."

"I'm on a diplomatic mission!"

"You're on the wrong world," Fett replied flatly. "If you were here for the Republic, you would have gone to Keldabe to meet with the  _Mand'alor_. Either you wanted to see me, or you want me to do something. Which is it?"

Caught off guard, she could only stare at him. "Maybe I did want to see you," she said finally. "But that doesn't mean I have to sleep with you. If you'll excuse me, I think I'll join my men at the inn."

She turned toward the door, but before she had taken two steps she heard him speak, his tone emotionless and precise.

"Door. Alpha seven-dash-four. Lock."

The bolts snapped into place, and Leia stopped in her tracks, her hand hovering uselessly over the door control. She spun around, her voice shaking with fury. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I don't think you understand." The bounty hunter took a step toward her, and she fought the urge to step back. She knew he wouldn't hurt her. She knew it the same way she knew that worlds would keep turning and all stars would burn and die. But he was still moving deliberately towards her, a threat in human form, and what should have been fear became a different sort of thrill.

"Understand what?" She said, trying to keep her voice from wavering.

He leaned toward her, cold and menacing. "Hira could have lived for a year on five Alliance bodies, but her clan is loyal to Shysa and that's the only reason you're still alive. The standing orders from the  _Mand'alor_  are to bring any Alliance agents to Keldabe for questioning. The only reason you're not on your way to Keldabe in chains is because I told them you came to see me." He paused to let the information sink in. "I don't care where you sleep. You can have the bed, or you can sleep on the floor. But you  _will_ stay here."

"I will  _not_." Leia put her hands on his armored chest and shoved him, to absolutely no effect. She might as well try to shove a brick wall. She caught a flicker of dark amusement in his eyes, and suddenly it was little harder to breathe. He looked down at her hands and then he took a deliberate step closer and raised his eyes back to hers, a silent, mocking question in them. Leia wasn't sure if she wanted to hit him or kiss him. At this point, either action might have the same outcome. "If this gets back to Coruscant," she said grimly, "I'll be in professional conduct seminars for the next six years."

Her hands were still on his chest, hard durasteel under her palms and there was something strange and a little dangerous about touching him with his armor on. She slowly spread her fingers over the scarred surface of his breastplate, remembering the shape and color and warmth of the skin beneath it. It uncoiled slowly in her mind, the memory of straddling his hips, tracing the hard lines of muscle down through his chest and stomach, leaving little kisses to mark the way. She looked up into his eyes, and even if he couldn't know her exact thoughts, he clearly had the general idea.

They moved as one, colliding into a rough embrace. Her arms went around his neck as the kiss deepened, fighting for more contact in spite of the layers of armor and clothing between them. One of his hands moved up under her jacket and squeezed her breast through her shirt, and her teeth came down hard on his lower lip.

Fett yanked her jacket down over her shoulders, pinning her arms to her sides as he worked her shirt open. His mouth dropped to her neck, and then he pulled back abruptly. "You want a shower?"

Leia tried to laugh, but she didn't have enough air in her lungs. "What are you saying? That I'm too dirty for your bed?

"Right now you're too dirty for my floor." He pushed the door to the 'fresher open. The front door was a standard slide, but this door actually had hinges.

"Quaint," Leia said when she saw the shower, a basic spout slanting out of a duracrete wall. The entire 'fresher was half the size of her shower on Coruscant. The bounty hunter gave the crank a twist and water spurted out, splashing against the opposite wall and sending wild drops everywhere. Leia brushed one off her cheek and realized he was starting to remove his armor. "I don't think that's going to work," she said doubtfully, looking at the narrow shower stall.

"It'll work. Take off your clothes and get in."

"You could just wait," she said, amused by his impatience. "I'm perfectly capable of getting myself clean."

"I'll be the judge of that." Fett closed in again, pushing her back into the shower stall. Leia clutched at him for balance, water soaking into the back of her jacket and shirt.

"I don't know about this," she said breathlessly. "The last time I went into a shower with you, I had bruises on my knees for weeks."

He put his hands under her open shirt, and she lost her train of thought. "We won't have room for that," he acknowledged with visible regret. Her shirt and jacket slid easily off her shoulders, and her pants and boots soon followed.

The shower stall was a tight fit, but twenty minutes later she was face-to-face with the smooth gray wall, weak-kneed and gasping. She was vaguely aware of Fett behind her, hard and ready against her back. She could barely hear him over the roar of the spigot, but it didn't really matter. At that moment he could have anything, anything he wanted.

It was a little uncomfortable at first, but he was careful and used plenty of soap. She decided there was something perversely enjoyable about feeling so dirty in the process of getting so clean.

Much later she woke up alone in the bed. She saw opalescent blue sky through the small, high windows and realized it was morning. Fett was nowhere to be seen, but the back door to the house was slightly ajar and she could hear faint noises. Her clothes were still in a dirty pile on the 'fresher floor, so she wrapped the bed sheet around herself and went to investigate.

The bounty hunter was sitting on a large flat rock behind the house with a nearly assembled C-3P0 beside him. The droid was fully functional, only his legs were still detached. Leia was impressed. "How long have you been out here?"

"Oh Your Highness," Threepio said, seeming distressed. "I had to tell him. He still has my legs!"

"Tell him what?"

"We were just having a chat," Fett replied. "About your diplomatic mission."

"I really don't see what the fuss is about," Threepio protested, "It's just such poor timing to be sent away during the planetary system primary elections."

Leia glared at him, wishing now that his stupid head had been blown to bits. "I'm a former Galactic Senator, and there are plenty of worlds that could benefit from my experience. The timing just isn't right. I'll run next term."

"Of course you will, Your Highness!" The droid twittered on, "Everyone will have forgotten all about Darth Vader by then-"

Fett reached over and switched the droid off, his eyes on her face."You're angry."

"You interrogated my droid," she replied stiffly. "Did you think I wouldn't tell you the truth?"

There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Fett continued. "You must need my help," he said. "So what do you want with the Mandalorians?"

Leia took a deep breath. "Mandalorian settlements and cities are becoming refuges for war criminals. Leebin was only the first, and when you-"

"Don't-" He spoke harshly. "Speak of that here. At all."

"There are others, and there will be more. Word is getting around that Mandalorians won't extradite, the Republic can't allow them to grant territorial amnesty. There's talk of sending in troops."

"Mandalorians like a fight," Fett said with a shrug. "It's what they live for."

"Doesn't it matter what they fight for? Or why?"

"That becomes semantics and rhetoric. It's often enough that they feel challenged."

Leia almost flinched. "I was sent here to negotiate a peaceful solution. Do you think it's impossible?"

"They'll hear you out. If they decide not to treat with the Republic, you'll be asked politely to leave. And then I would advise you to do just that."

"Leave?" She echoed, "if this fails, I'm done. My career is over." She sat down beside him on the rock, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. "I might as well learn the ways of the Force and become a Jedi," she said with bitter humor. "Luke says it's my destiny. Maybe it's the only path I have left."

"Destinies can change," Fett replied evenly. "What do  _you_  want?"

Leia took her time answering. She plucked a tough blade of yellow grass from beside the rock and wrapped it around her finger. "I want to be part of the Republic I fought for. I want to see it work, to make things better." She smiled sadly, and tore the grass in two. "And I don't want to become my father."

There was another long pause, and then the bounty hunter spoke. "You could always stay here."

She stared at him, sure she had misheard, but he appeared to be deeply pondering the mountain ranges to the west. "Not as an ambassador," he continued. "As my guest. I think you would find the culture interesting. The Mandalorians have no galactic representative." He glanced at her to make sure she was following him.

It took her a few moments to come up with a coherent response. "I had no idea you were interested in playing politics."

"I'm bored."

"Then why stay here?"

"They're not stupid," he said in low voice, his eyes cutting toward the nearest house. "They suspect, but they don't know. If I leave too soon, it confirms their suspicions and they'll go to Shysa." He glanced over at her and shrugged. "I buy parts in Keldabe. It would be inconvenient for me to have enemies there. If I can get your treaty approved, will you stay?"

"Just like that?" Leia said warily, "do you have that much influence here?"

"No," he replied thoughtfully. "Just my name. And a plan."

 

* * *

 

**Mando'a Translations**

_Cetar -_ Kneel

_Vaabir gar kar'taylir_ Boba Fett _? -_ How do you know Boba Fett?

Fett!  _Vaabir gar kar'taylir ibic dala_? - Fett! Do you know this woman?

_Usen'ye -_ Fuck off

 


	10. Keldabe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenn Shysa receives some startling news.

**Keldabe, Mandalore**

Fenn Shysa dragged his eyes away from the bolo game on the holoscreen. The tapcafe was busy, customers came and went, he paid no attention until he heard his name. The two Mandalorians looking for him were speaking in the Concordian dialect.

He took another sip of the ale without tasting it, and watched over the rim of the glass as they removed their helmets and started towards him. He knew the old man's face, he was a clan chieftain from the far side of Concord Dawn. His stomach tightened uncomfortably. Nothing but trouble seemed to come from Concord Dawn these days.

"A word,  _Mand'alor_?"

"Verlen Bard," he said, without a trace of the anxiety brewing inside him. "How are ya?"

"Well enough." He gestured at the younger man beside him. "You remember my niece, Hira? This is the boy she married, Corr Kundun."

"A pleasure," Fenn said with an easy smile, gesturing to the bartender. "Sit yourselves down and have a drink."

"We've had more Alliance come," Bard said abruptly, and the pain in Fenn's stomach grew worse.

"Causalities?"

"No. They sent an Ambassador this time. A human female called Leia Organa."

"The Princess?" Fenn was immediately surprised and pleased. "They're showing some sense for once. She was here before, ya know. Steady hands and a real talent for fightin' the Empire, that one." The bartender brought over two mugs of ale and retreated while Fenn considered this news. "How did she end up in your neck o' the wilderness instead of here?"

Verlen and Corr exchanged a brief look. "Might want to ask Boba Fett," the older man said, and took another drink of ale.

" _Osik_ ," Fenn flinched, recalling that the last time he'd seen the lovely young rebel, she'd said something about killing the bounty hunter with her bare hands. "Ya did say no causalities?"

Verlen's brows raised. "She's been there for almost three weeks. If she wanted him dead, she probably could have killed him in his sleep by now."

He caught the implication, of course, but it was simply not a leap Fenn's mind could make without help. "Ya can't be serious."

"It's a small town," Verlen said gruffly. "Hard to miss a thing like that."

Fenn was speechless, not a state he often found himself in. After a long pause, Verlen continued. "I didn't come all this way to gossip. It's none of my business who Fett shares his bed with, except when it's with the Alliance. Too much of a coincidence, after that business with Leebin."

Averting his gaze, Fenn toyed with his empty glass. "Ya think he's working for them now?"

"Maybe not. But one minute he's packing up to leave, and then this ambassador shows up and suddenly he's staying and acting more Mando than usual."

"Maybe it's true love?" Even as he said it, Fenn had a hard time believing it. Bard gave a dismissive snort, and Corr looked amused.

"Maybe he's looking for a new career path. Might want to watch your back,  _Mand'alor_."

Fenn shook his head in response. He hesitated a moment before speaking. "It wouldn't be such a bad thing to have a Fett Mandalore again, would it?"

Bard was silent, then a grim smile creased his face. "You were just a kid when Jango was Mandalore, Shysa. Has it ever occurred to you that you got stars in your eyes for something that never was?"

"For something that could be," Fenn offered persuasively. "Tell me honestly, ya ever seen a fiercer, smarter fighter?"

"I haven't," Corr responded, and Bard gave him a stern look.

"Shut your mouth. Nobody asked you."

"I'll hear him," Fenn insisted, sensing an ally. "Every being in the galaxy who knows Boba Fett's name knows enough to fear him. We could use a little o' that, couldn't we?"

Bard was clearly not happy. "Is this how a Core piece of  _osik_  like Aleek Leebin wound up on my side of Concord Dawn? Bait?"

Fenn took a sip of his ale, avoiding the old man's hard gaze. "You're of a suspicious mind, anyone ever tell ya that?"

"He ran to the one place Boba Fett couldn't go, and all of the sudden the Protectors are willing to forgive and forget a lifetime exile sentence. That your doing too?"

"I don't play that way," Fenn protested. "When have I ever pulled rank?"

"If the stories are true, only once. The last time Fett was on Concord Dawn, wasn't it?"

" _Haar'chak,"_  Fenn muttered, pretending to be distracted by the boloball game. "That was nearly seventeen years ago. I had no say in it this time, I swear to ya."

Bard took a long drink of ale. "But the woman," he said. "The Ambassador. She's not part of this."

"I'm as surprised as you by that, possibly a bit more," Fenn added dryly. "Last time I saw her, she was all hung up on some space pirate who earned himself in a ride in Fett's cargo hold." He paused. "Does he seem happy?"

"As much as he ever does," Bard grunted. "He's a Fett. They breed grim."

"The ambassador seems happy," Corr offered bravely. "Hira's been teaching her some Mando fighting. Says she's a tough little thing."

"She is that," Fenn recalled, smiling. "If she's peddlin' for the Alliance, I'm inclined to listen to her pitch. Ya think anyone will have a problem with that?"

"Some will. Me, I'm coming to see the advantages." Bard shifted in his seat. "She talks sense," he said shortly. "She's motivated to make it work. That's not hard to see. Fett's motivations are the ones I'm worried about."

There was a second or two of silence, and then Fenn shrugged. "Let me worry about that," he said. "If nothing changes, I'll be down to check out the situation in a month or two."


	11. Concord Dawn Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Co-habitation can be tricky.

The sky was still gray when  _Slave I_  landed in Arey'get, but by the time Boba Fett disembarked the first signs of sunrise were visible. He moved his shoulders and neck, trying to dislodge the dull ache in them. Usually he had no trouble sleeping at the helm, but the journey back to Concord Dawn had been a rough one. Three busted compression coils meant no internal thrust and no autopilot. He would have to do some serious repairs before his next trip outside the system.

He used his swoop bike to cross the last five miles out to the settlement. The sun was rising over the mountains now, giving all the stone buildings a pinkish tint. His arrival went largely unnoticed. The  _Mand'alor_  was coming, and the square was full of activity.

"Don't park that on the street," Corr Kundun said in passing. "The  _west_  end," he barked into the comlink in his hand. "I said move it to  _west_  end."

" _Su'cry_ ," his wife Hira added dryly, balancing a large basket on her hip. She deftly turned around and walked backwards, still facing Fett. "She was worried. We thought you weren't going to make it."

"I said I would be here, and I am."

She smirked at him, one eyebrow raised. "You'll have to do better than that."

He didn't respond, not seeing any reason to explain himself when his crime was entirely hypothetical. Hira turned and resumed her path to the inn. Leia was in the yard outside of it, helping Hira's mother move tables. She was dressed like the other women in utilitarian clothing, her hair braided. He fully expect to return one day from a job and find her wearing armor.

It was an anomaly in his life to return to one location in between hunts, to have a house and neighbors. There was days he found it confining, and days he found it irritating. Most days he could stand it. The last time he had returned in the dead of night, in a miserable downpour. His bed was warm, but Leia vigorously protested his cold hands and put up a fight. By the time she yielded, laughing and panting, he was much warmer. They fucked twice before the sun rose.

Leia was also an anomaly, but she was fair compensation for feigning interest in Mandalorian politics.

Even in his limited experience with women and relationships Fett knew that this was the peak of it. The bright, hot center where the sex was always good and even his less charming traits were somehow endearing. It wouldn't last.

She saw him now, across the square, and dropped the end of the table she was holding.

Others passed him, carrying trays of food and spare mugs to the inn. Fett turned and continued on to his house. Once inside, he set down his rifle, dropped a few heavy pieces of armor and went to the 'fresher. A few seconds later he heard the front door open, rapid footsteps, and then the 'fresher door swung open, slamming into his shoulder.

"Where the hell have you been?" Leia demanded. "You couldn't have called? Let me know you were going to be late?"

"I'm not late," he said, annoyed by this punitive invasion of privacy. "I said I would be back before the meeting, and I am."

"You said you would be back  _yesterday_ , and the meeting is in fifteen minutes!"

He could have told her about the busted compression coils, about the ten standard hours he'd just spent running the auxiliary engines and keeping a very close eye on  _Slave I_ 's core temperature, but it was not in his nature to give excuses. "I'm going to take a shower," he said instead and put his hand deliberately on the door. Leia stalked out, but not before giving him a murderous look.

"You weren't worried, were you?"

Leia turned to face him, her chin up. "I need you at this meeting. You  _know_ that."

"You don't need me. Shysa likes to play folksy with that ridiculous accent, but he's not stupid. He won't say yes and he won't say no. Not today." He crossed back into the main room and removed his wrist shooters, setting them on the table beside his rifle. "You said you've met him before."

"Our paths crossed."

There was something about the way she said it that immediately caught his attention. "What does that mean?"

"He told me a story about you," she continued, ignoring the question. "Everyone here seems to know a story about you, even if one tale contradicts another. Your life doesn't have much of a chronology."

He saw where this was going now. He should have seen it before. "Someone told you I was married."

"Is it true?"

"Yes. It didn't last long."

"Long enough to have a child."

"A daughter. We don't keep in touch. I was a bad husband and a worse father." The words were simple fact, as far as he was concerned, but they came out harsher than he intended.

Leia studied him silently for a long moment before she spoke. "I would like hear it about it," she said. "But maybe not today."

He nodded once and started to turn back toward the 'fresher when her voice stopped him again."You were gone for almost two weeks this time. If you're tired of having a house guest, all you have to do is say so."

"It had nothing to do with you. My business took longer than anticipated to complete."

"Then maybe the next time you're going to be late-"

"I'm not-"

"Or  _behind schedule_ , or whatever  _the hell you want to call it_ -" Leia stopped, took a deep breath, and made an effort to lower her voice and speak calmly. "Maybe you could try to remember that there's at least one person in this galaxy who gives a damn about whether you're alive or dead."

He wasn't sure how to take that. She could be admitting that she was genuinely worried about his well-being. She could also be trying to goad him into an apology. This was one of the hard things about being in a relationship. It was much easier to determine the motivations of someone who didn't like him.

Fett realized she was waiting for him to say something. "That doesn't seem like something I would forget."

Leia rolled her eyes. "See that you don't." Then she moved closer and put her arms around his neck. His gloved hands stroked down, tracing the curve of her body from her shoulder blades to her hips. Suddenly a shower seemed like a waste of time.

He lifted her up and sat her on the table, pulling purposefully at the ties on the side of her tunic. "Hey," Leia scolded, pushing his hands away. She was right, of course, there wasn't enough time to do this right. "Not with your helmet on," she said and he let go of a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He had his helmet off in a second, and then her mouth was pressed against his, warm and welcoming. She'd had something sweet for breakfast, probably some of the  _uj_  cake they were baking at the inn. He cupped the back of her head, but his fingers caught in her hair, so he adjusted his grip to her waist. The undershirt she wore beneath her tunic was tight, but she squirmed so nicely when he got under it. "Gloves," she reminded him breathlessly when they broke apart. "Take them off."

He meant to comply, but he wanted to kiss her again first. His other hands was already down the front of her pants, and her hips bucked even as her teeth bit into her lower lip. "Don't," she gasped. "I mean it, gloves off-"

They both heard the sound of speeders on the main road and froze. Fett swallowed a curse. Of course Shysa would be early.

Leia sighed and let him go."You know, if you had come back last night..." She took one look at his face and let the sentence fall off as she ducked her head and busied herself with the ties of her tunic. She was  _smiling_ , damn her.

The bounty hunter snapped his armor back into place, trying not to think about the fact that his glove now carried a trace of her scent. There would be time for this later. If the negotiations went well and Leia was in a good mood, there were a number of excellent possibilities.

He brushed his hand over the table's surface speculatively. It was old wood, and worn smooth with use. Still, it might be uncomfortable against her back, and he couldn't rule out the possibility of splinters. "Stand up and turn around."

She gave him a sharp look, but curiosity won over defiance. "What are you doing?"

"Measuring. Bend forward and put your hands on the table."

"Boba," she said, her cheeks flushed. He took a step back to show her he wasn't planning to grab her – not yet anyway – and she slowly obeyed. "Like this?"

"A little further." There. The table was exactly the right height. Useful information. "You can stand up."

Leia put her hand on his belt, straightening it a little as she smiled up at him. "One thing at a time." Her fingers curled around the back, a gesture he couldn't physically feel through his suit, but saw and registered in his brain with the force of a red-hot branding iron. He didn't want to wait. He wanted her naked now, and fuck Fenn Shysa. He thought back to Leia's oblique reference to meeting Shysa before.

"Did you fuck the  _Mand'alor_?"

Her gaze went cold and she immediately dropped her hand. "If I had, it certainly wouldn't be any of your business."

"No," he agreed. "Unless it ended badly, and he's coming to this meeting with a grudge. Then it's something I would like to know."

Her fingers deftly caught the hair that had worked loose from her braid and she tucked it back in place. "It was when you had Han. He had Dengar and I thought Dengar had information, so I kissed Fenn and then I bashed his head into a tree. Does that count as ending things badly?"

Fett supposed that depended on Shysa's view of things. "Dengar almost never has information about anything."

"What a shame you weren't around to tell me that," she replied testily. "You could have saved me so much time and energy."

"It's not easy to get the drop on Shysa. Must have been some kiss."

"You should know. I kissed you once."

He followed her out into the bright morning sun, automatically taking note of the speeders, the number of men and their armor and weapons. The  _Mand'alor_ had not come unprepared, but if he was expecting any trouble, he did an excellent job of hiding it. He stood along his hosts, grinning and greeting clan chiefs and making a fuss over the children who crowded around.

Fenn Shysa was one of those people who never seemed to age. Fett thought it had been at least fifteen years since he'd last seen his face, and other than a few more lines around his eyes, he looked exactly the same. Those eyes fell on Leia now, and immediately lit up. "Princess," he said warmly, "lookin' as lovely as ever."

" _Mand'alor,_ " Leia replied with a wry smile. "Do we have to be so formal?"

"Leia and Fenn then," he agreed. "A better fit for old friends." Shysa's attention shifted to him, and he gave the bounty hunter nod of acknowledgment. "I wouldn't say ya look lovely, but ya seem to be in good health."

"Shysa."

The  _Mand'alor_ turned suddenly, taking Leia's hand and tucking it through his arm. "Let's get this over with, so we can catch up proper. Ya got to come over to Mandalore, ya wouldn't know it for the same place as during the war."

Hira brought a pitcher of ale to the table inside the inn and tactfully disappeared, leaving the three of them to their business. "We're rebuildin' slow, but we still got some of the best weapon crafters in the galaxy," Shysa continued as they sat. "Good brews from Concordia, I hear ya can even get wine from the core without killin' nobody. Not that I wouldn't, if I had somebody to impress." He winked at Leia, and she looked bemused. "Besides, ya can't stay out here forever. What's out here to see? The Fett family farm?"

"The what?" She said, looking startled.

Shysa turned his gaze reproachfully to Fett. "All this time out here and ya ain't taken her to your Grandpa's" old homestead?"

"I don't know where it is," he lied, and a look of annoyance passed over Shysa's face.

"All right," he said, turning his attention back to Leia. "Plenty o' time to catch up later. Let's talk treaties. Don't know if ya noticed, but relations are a little dicey. What guarantee do ya have that your Alliance won't just turn out to be another meddlin', slavin' Empire?"

"I can't offer a guarantee," Leia said calmly. "Government is what the people make it. That's why it's vitally important to make sure Mandalorian interests are protected _now_. If you could get a system-wide consensus-"

"Whoa there, Missy. It's hard enough to get a Mandalorian consensus, let alone bring in the  _auretti_ in the system."

"Hm, yes, the  _auretti_ ," she mused, picking up on the word for "outsider." She folded her arms on the table top and leaned towards Fenn. "It seems obvious to me that Mandalorian leadership would have to be at the forefront of any system alliance."

One blond brow arched inquisitively. "There's some that won't see it that way."

"But that's what you want, isn't it? If there's no opposition, there's no reason for Mandalorians to unite and keep order."

"It might bring some  _mando'ade_  home," he conceded. Fett thought he looked pleased by the idea. "But if we can't sort it out without a fight, how would that look to yer pals in the core?"

"You have to make a visible effort toward unification. Announce a system-wide alliance and place people you can trust as guardians. As long as the opposition resorts to violence first, your position is justified. And of course, I will assure the Senate that Mandalorians only want peace in their homeworlds."

"Just like that, huh?"

"It's nothing you can't handle, Fenn." She paused. "Of course, that's just the foundation. We would still have to talk about your extradition policy."

"Seems like that's pretty well settled for now. " The  _Mand'alor_  took a sip of ale. "You've given me some more to think on, anyway. I'll make the rounds to the clans. Ya sticking around for a while?"

"I think so," said Leia, studiously not looking at Fett. She lifted her glass. "Here's to a united Mandalore system."

"Aye, I'll drink to that." Fenn's gaze turned to him. "Ya got anything to add?"

"No."

"Good. I'm starvin' and tired o' politics."

"I'll grab us some food before it's all eaten," Leia stood. "More ale too?"

"It's like you're my own angel o' mercy," Fenn said gratefully, draining his glass. Leia opened the door, letting a bright shaft of sunlight into the cool, dark interior of the inn. Hira paused within view, reaching over to fix a strand of Leia's hair that had slid out of her braid. Leia gave Fett a quick look across the room and a small, secretive smile. Later, when she was naked and bent over a table, he was going to ask her to take her hair down. He liked the way it spilled over her back like water. He turned back to the table and found himself under Fenn Shysa's sharp gaze. "I'd love to know how ya went from hunting her boyfriend to getting looks like that. Must be some story."

Fett shrugged and didn't comment.

"Funny thing about this treaty, most of the clans in favor of it seemed to be from right here, on Concord Dawn. Not a bad base of support, all things considered. Folks tell me I should be worried, that you're coming to take my job."

"I have no interest in leadership roles. You know that."

Fenn toyed with his empty glass. "Ya really never gave it a thought? Pickin' up where your dad left off?"

"My dad was a bounty hunter."

"But he was  _Mand'alor_ first." The glass rocked slightly when Shysa set it back on the table. "Ya show up out of the blue, start making nice with the locals, then ya disappear, then Alek Leebin disappears-" Fenn's tone was casual, but his gun hand was under the table, out of sight. "-some might call that a startlin' coincidence."

"Who's Alek Leebin?"

Fenn gave him a sour look. "Don't be cute, Boba, it don't suit ya. Me, I never cared for him, but I did take his money. Him getting snatched from under my nose, well, it's a mite  _awkward_."

"Something you want, Shysa?"

"I want a lot of things. When I settle on one, I'll let ya know." Fenn's eyes went to the door. "Yer not gonna tell me, are ya? I mean there's fellas like you and me-" He held his hand out, palm down. "Well here ya are." He raised it by a few inches. "And here I am. And then there are women like  _that_." He raised his hand a foot or so above his head. "I can't blame her for wantin' a Mando man, of course, but seems like she could do a little better."

Fett refused to take the bait. "If you want her to stay, give her a job. She'll get tired of me eventually."

"If you were the  _Mand'alor_ , ya could give her any job she wants. Nice girl like Leia might like that. She might even marry ya, and give ya some little Fetts."

He stared hard at Fenn for a long, silent minute. "You must be desperate to get out of it."

"Just think about it. Ya got the name and the reputation, and as it happens, Leia's got the leadership experience. If that ain't destiny, it's near enough."

"Destiny." He echoed with scorn. "She's the one interested in the fate of the Mandalorians, Shysa, not me."

The door opened and Leia returned. She set down a perspiring pitcher of ale and a basket full of  _uj_ cake. "Did I miss anything?"

"Nothing important," he told her, reaching for slice of cake. Fenn snagged the basket first and took two pieces before offering it to Leia.

"Le'ika, do ya not think Boba would make a fine  _Mand'alor_?"

She didn't look nearly as surprised as he would have expected. "I think the best man for the job has it," she said, and passed the cake to Fett.

"There's a politician's answer for ya," Fenn said dryly. "Not that I don't appreciate the compliment."

Someone gave a shout outside, and Fett stood and went to the door. There was a crowd gathering at the far end of the settlement, but it was hard to see what was causing the commotion. "Something wrong?" Fenn asked, but Fett turned and addressed Leia instead.

"Does Skywalker know where you are?"


	12. A Jedi Walks into an Inn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing is quite what Luke expected.

Luke Skywalker stood patiently while an old man in Mandalorian armor looked him over, his weathered face unreadable. He said something in a foreign tongue, a question. One of the armored men standing behind Luke answered him the same way. It hadn't occurred to Luke to bring a translator. Leia had sent C-3P0 back almost immediately with her Zeltron bodyguards, claiming that she no longer needed the services of either.

The other inhabitants of the settlement were beginning to gather around, but his guards kept them at a careful distance. The old man looked down at the lightsaber his gauntleted fist and spoke in strongly accented Basic. "What are you? Some kind of Jedi?" The words were spoken mockingly, as if the possibility was so remote, it couldn't be taken seriously.

"That's right. My name is Luke Skywalker. I'm a Jedi Knight."

There was only silence in response.

"I'm looking for Ambassador Leia Organa," Luke tried again. "Do you know where she is?"

The old man turned his head and had a brief conversation with a woman in the crowd. Leia had described Concord Dawn as an agricultural world, but these didn't look like any farmers Luke had ever seen. Neither was Aray'get the "thriving spaceport" that the navigational charts suggested. The city was deserted, and not long after he landed he was surrounded by a welcoming committee of six heavily armed Mandalorians.

"It's very important that I see Ambassador Organa immediately."

One silver eyebrow lifted marginally. "Come on then." Their destination was a large building with a faded canvas awning. Luke assumed it was an inn or a cantina of some sort. There was a group of armor-clad men and women sitting at a table by the door. They fell silent as they approached, and then stood to their feet without a word and followed them into the building.

Leia was inside. He could sense her presence even before he walked through the door. His sister rose from a table where she was sitting with two Mandalorian men, their helmets on the table. Luke thought she looked worried.

The old man said a few words in the Mandalorian tongue and set Luke's lightsaber on the table in front of a tall, blond man. " _Jetii_? The man echoed in disbelief. He looked across the table at the other Mandalorian, a dark-haired man who was sharing a bench with Leia. "A  _real_ Jedi?"

He shrugged. "As far as I know."

"Yes, a  _real_ Jedi." Leia snapped, putting her hands on her hips. She had obviously been eating and sleeping well on Concord Dawn, Luke was pleased to note. A welcome change from how he last saw her on Coruscant. 

"You look great," he told her.

"Thank you.  _What are you doing here_?"

The blond man stood up, and Luke could tell by the way everyone's attention immediately shifted to him that he was in charge. Even Leia fell back slightly, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Ya don't  _look_ like a Jedi," the man spoke in Basic with a rough, unfamiliar accent. "Do they not wear those long robes anymore? And the wee little braids? I liked those. They were...handy." He grinned suddenly, and there were a few coughs and chuckles from the other Mandalorians. A number of the townspeople had filtered in, and Luke had the uncomfortable feeling that every single one of them was sizing him up.

"I am a Jedi Knight," Luke said firmly, then added "I'm also Ambassador Organa's brother."

The blond man did a visible double-take. "Yer brother?" He said to Leia. "I'll be damned." He looked at the dark-haired man, then back to Leia, and then his mouth twitched as if something were extremely funny. "But yer not..."

"No." She answered flatly. "I'm not like him."

Luke let the denial go. Now really wasn't the time to rehash  _that_  argument.

"A Jedi Knight." The blond man shook his head in amazement. "How long's it been since we had a proper Jedi Knight in the sector? Ten years? Twenty?"

"Not since the New Mandalorians held Keldabe" someone offered. "The Duchess was friendly with them."

"With one in particular," another man smirked, his accent similar to the old man's. "I always heard." He made a crude gesture, and the woman next to him shoved him and said something sharp in the Mandalorian language.

The blond man gave Luke a friendly smile and gestured at the lightsaber still laying on the table. "Ya don't mind if I take a look, do you? Been a long time since I've seen one o' those."

"Be careful with it," he cautioned.

"Oh, yeah," the man replied easily, still smiling as he turned the weapon over in his hands. He turned abruptly and tossed it to the dark-haired man still sitting at the table, who caught it with a flick of his wrist. "We'll be careful, won't we?"

"Very careful."

There was something unsettling and familiar about his voice, and something about the steadiness of his gaze that made Luke feel they'd met before, and not under friendly circumstances. He looked to his sister, but Leia said nothing, her posture tense and watchful.

"So could ya give us a bit of a demonstration?" the blond man asked with an earnestness that Luke was beginning to mistrust. "Maybe knock a chair over with yer mind? Lift that pitcher and pour a drink?"

"What?"

The dark-haired man balanced Luke's lightsaber in his gloved hand before tossing it lightly and catching it. "The  _Mand'alor_ wants to see you perform."

"It's not a magic trick," Luke snapped in response. "And watch what you're doing with that."

"Just lift something a little," urged the blond man, stepping uncomfortably close to him. "Just so we can all tell our kids we were here the day the Jedi came back to Mandalore sector. Gloves off, though. Some people have those gloves, those...ah, what are they called?"

"Electro-Magnetic Sensor Gloves," the dark-haired man answered, watching Luke closely.

"Ah, that's right. Go on, lift a cup, a spoon, anything. Give me a little push," he encouraged. "I won't hold it against ya. C'mon, Master Jedi, just-" he snapped his fingers, too close to Luke's face. "-Pick something up."

Luke almost called his lightsaber to his hand, but the there was an odd, crackling tension in the room, as if they were expecting him to do something of the sort.

"That's enough!" Leia said, her voice cutting through air like a knife. "A pair of schoolyard bullies," she said furiously, "both of you." The man referred to as the  _Mand'alor_  laughed, breaking the strained atmosphere as others joined him. Leia was not laughing. "Give me that." she demanded, holding out her hand for the lightsaber. A look passed between her and the man holding it, and then he complied.

"I'm sorry," the  _Mand'alor_  said contritely to Luke, his accent suddenly far less prominent. "Jedi or not, any brother of Leia's is welcome, far as I'm concerned. Sit down and have a drink, will ya? I'm Fenn Shysa." He gave a nod to the old man, who joined him at the table. "This here's Bard, the clan chief."

"Why wouldn't Jedi be welcome here?" Luke asked as he sat down.

"Well, that's a long story," Fenn Shysa said conversationally as he filled glasses with dark ale. "But ya don't need to be too worried. Most of us have been out of the Jedi-killin' business for years. Well, except for Fett, of course." He jerked his head in the direction of the dark-haired man and Luke went back to his feet immediately. He wouldn't recognize his face, but the armor looked about right. " _Boba_  Fett?" He demanded incredulously.

"Skywalker," the bounty hunter replied in a flat, emotionless monotone.

Leia was still holding his lightsaber in her white-knuckled grip, and her face was very clearly encouraging him to sit down and shut up. Slowly he sank back into his seat, wrestling with the idea that the bounty hunter's presence could be anything other than a threat.

"What are you doing here?"

"Your sister," Fett replied, "needed a cultural adviser."

Luke looked at Leia, who grabbed a half-empty glass of ale and immediately raised it to her lips. Her cheeks were red.

Fenn Shysa pushed a cold glass of ale into his hand. "Now that ya seen that we savages haven't killed and ate Le'ika, are ya staying for a while?"

"I guess so." The ale was bitter and strong. It reminded Luke of the beers brewed by moisture farmers out on the Dune Sea.

"We'll get ya set up with a room then." He turned to look at Bard. "Is Frellie around? Or Hira?"

Based on the reception so far, Luke was sure no one would be eager to have him under their roof. "I don't want to inconvenience anyone," he said, nodding at Leia. "I'll just sleep wherever you're sleeping."

His sister choked, covering her mouth quickly as she sputtered and coughed. Fenn Shysa ducked his head, staring intently into his glass and Bard set the pitcher down on the table with a loud clank, his eyes fixed watchfully on Boba Fett. The bounty hunter kept his unsmiling gaze on Luke.

"I don't think so."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Luke demanded. Leia was still coughing helplessly, but she managed to give Fett a disbelieving look. She drew in a ragged breath and put her hand on the bounty hunter's arm above his wrist shooters, her grip tight.

"Luke," she managed. "We need to talk."


	13. Coruscant Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia returns to the core, but things are not quite back to normal.

The plaza was bathed in soft orange light, as if the sun was setting. The effect was artificial, but still pretty. It was actually much later, well into the night. There were a few other diners and drinkers at the outside tables, but the restaurant had long fallen out of favor with the younger Coruscanti citizens and was half-empty even on a good night. This, of course, was precisely why Leia had chosen it. There was little danger of anyone here identifying three plainly dressed humans and a Wookiee as a politician, a Jedi, a smuggler and well...a Wookiee.

"One last round, all right?" Han Solo lifted a pitcher right off a serving droid's tray, eliciting a scolding beep from the droid. He poured, and they all raised their glasses as they'd done several times before in past few hours. "Here's..." Han hesitated, his concentration inhibited by the alcohol. "Here's to the Ewoks."

Luke and Leia both laughed at that. "To the Ewoks," Luke echoed. "Heroes of the rebel alliance."

They all drank, and lapsed into a comfortable silence. The serving droid came around to collect empty glasses and dishes. "I regret to inform you that this establishment will be closing soon," the droid announced. "Who will be picking up the tab?"

"I will," Leia took the credit scanner from the droid.

"You sure?" Han stretched and pushed away his empty glass. "We don't mind pitching in."

"I don't either," Luke added, but Leia waved away their offers.

"It's my pleasure," she said, surprised to realize that she was being truthful. She wouldn't have let the anniversary of Endor pass by without commemoration, but so much had changed since the last anniversary dinner. It wasn't on Coruscant, Lando was there, and she and Han went back to her quarters and had giddy, drunken sex afterward. A lot of things had changed in a year, but it wasn't as awkward as she thought it might be. "I'm really glad we could do this," she said as they gathered themselves up and left the plaza.

Luke put his arm around her. "Me too. And I'm glad you're back. I really missed you."

"Yeah, you look great," Han said, and Chewbacca gave a nondescript sound of agreement. "Where were you? Diplomatic mission to a tropical resort?"

"Not exactly," Leia replied wryly. "Mandalore sector."

Han gave a low whistle of sympathy. "Chewie and me been to Keldabe a few times. You can't get a decent sabacc game, and every time you turn a corner you run into someone in a fucking suit of armor like-" He paused, a little awkwardly. "Well, like Boba Fett. He's Mandalorian, right?"

"I think it depends on who you ask." Leia discretely checked the time. "I spent most of my time on Concord Dawn. It was very...rural."

"Boring," Han supplied, and she smiled.

"It was interesting to me. Mandalorians are mercenaries when they need creds and farmers when they need food. They're a very practical people, and I admire that. I've been asked to return once the treaty is signed, to serve as a liaison and an adviser."

Luke looked up sharply. "You didn't tell me that,"

"It's not a done deal." She checked her comlink for messages and avoided her brother's scrutiny. She knew he didn't want her to return to Mandalore sector. He'd made his feelings  _very_  clear the day he showed up on Concord Dawn and found out that she was undertaking her diplomatic mission while living and sleeping with Boba Fett. She considered it a perfectly sensible arrangement. Luke considered it further evidence of a self-destructive spiral.

"It's late," she said. "I should be getting home."

"We'll walk with you," Han decided. "The docking bay's not much further. Luke, you coming?"

"Yeah." He stretched and yawned. "I hate riding the shuttle this late. Okay if I stay with you tonight, Leia?"

It was not okay with her, but she didn't want to fight about it in front of Han and Chewie. "It's not really a good night. I have to get up early tomorrow, and I'll be in meetings all day."

"I don't mind. I'll just sleep on your couch and wait for you get back."

He started walking and she stared at his back in exasperation. By the time they reached her apartment building, Luke and Han were deep in conversation, so the smuggler and the Wookiee rode up the lift with them. At her front door, Luke stopped talking long enough to give her a sidelong glance. Perhaps he was picking up on her anxiety with his Force abilities. Once they were alone, she would have to explain to him why he couldn't stay the night, and she wanted to get it over with.

Her hand hovered over the door control. "Han, Chewie, it was great to-"

"Since we're all here, how about one more drink?" Luke proposed, and Leia stiffed a frustrated sigh.

"That's not a good idea."

"Why?" Han grinned down at her. "Are you drunk enough to make a pass at me?"

Luke was frowning at her again, and she forced herself to keep her tone light. "I just said I have to get up early tomorrow. I think we should call it a night." She opened the door, but when she walked through it, everyone followed.

Great, she thought grimly. She looked at her comlink again. No messages, she noted with relief.

"One drink," she relented, only to have Luke shove her aside, his lightsaber flying into his hand. Han pulled a hidden blaster from inside his coat, putting himself deliberately in front of her. Leia had to struggle to see past him into the arched hallway that led to her bedroom.

Boba Fett stood in the shadow of the arch, his rifle raised and steady. He was naked except for one of her chimerian blue towels around his waist, his skin and hair still wet from the shower.

Chewbacca growled low in his throat, like thunder rumbling just before a storm. The bounty hunter's eyes flickered briefly in his direction. "I wondered what that smell was."

Leia struggled to drag air back into her lungs. "Weapons down, please," she finally managed, maneuvering past Han. "My security deposit doesn't cover shoot-outs."

"Jedi first."

Luke slowly dropped his stance and shut off his lightsaber, his mouth a thin, tight line. Han warily put away his gun and Fett slowly raised the muzzle of his rifle to the ceiling. His posture and the way he handled his gun seemed unmistakable to Leia, but then she had the bias of familiarity. She didn't dare look at Han or Chewie.

"A gambler and two droids short of a reunion," the bounty hunter noted.

"Lando couldn't make it, and most restaurants won't serve droids." She took a deep breath and tried to sound as normal as possible. "You're  _early_. And you were supposed to call first."

He shrugged, his eyes still fixed unblinkingly on her guests. "You didn't change your entry code. It didn't seem necessary to interrupt your dinner."

Han took a small step forward, his eyes fixed on Fett. "Do I know you?"

"Don't think so." he smiled without a trace of sincerity. "One of those faces, or so I've been told."

"Right." Han said, returning the expression with the same lack of warmth. "Because you're a clone." He turned his head to look at Leia. "Funny guy."

Luke was confused. "Wait. He's a what?"

"A clone. You don't see it?" Han looked to Chewie for confirmation, and his first mate cocked his head to one side and gave a measured response that Leia couldn't decipher. "I guess you would have been pretty young when the Clone War ended." Han looked at Fett again, one or more questions hanging unasked and unanswered between them. "Well," he said after a moment, "this has been  _fun_ , but we should be going." Chewie clearly disagreed with that, but Han cut him off. "It's late, pal, and I need another drink. A big one."

"You don't have to rush off," Leia said politely, knowing full well that he wouldn't stay.

"Yeah, I really do. Take care, Princess. Luke – be seeing ya." He looked at Boba Fett one last time, his face guarded, and walked out the door.

Leia sank down onto the sofa to disguise the fact that her knees were buckling. "Well, at least no one's dead." She looked over at Fett. "I don't suppose you understood what Chewie said?"

"He said that I look like a clone, but I don't smell like one." He turned towards the bedroom. "I should get dressed."

"Oh, do you think?" She said sarcastically to his back, then turned to Luke sternly. "Don't give me that look, I tried to keep everyone from following me home."

"You could have told me you were bringing him back to Corsucant with you."

"I didn't 'bring him' anywhere," she replied testily. "He had one night between jobs, and it just happened to be the night I had plans with you and Han. What was I supposed to do?"

"You could have told Han to his face that you're sleeping with the guy who once froze him in carbonite and sold him to Jabba the Hutt," Luke offered harshly. "The only reason I haven't told him is that I thought he deserved to hear it from you."

"It's none of his business who I'm sleeping with," she returned quietly. "Yours either."

"I don't think that applies when you're sleeping with someone who once  _tried to kill me_."

"I didn't try to kill you," Fett returned to the room, wearing pants and a sleeveless undershirt, his feet bare. He walked into the kitchen and took a Toydarian apple from the bowl on the counter.

"Oh really?" Luke's mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "You don't remember firing at me in the corridor on Bespin? Because I sure as hell remember firing at you."

"Firing  _at_ you. Vader wanted you alive." He took a knife out the drawer and started cutting into the apple. "He was very clear about that."

"What are you saying? That you missed on purpose?"

"I missed on purpose," Fett put a slice of fruit in his mouth, watching her brother's face as he chewed. "Didn"t you?"

"Stop it," Leia insisted. "Luke, listen to me. Lando betrayed us to the Empire on Bespin, but he also helped us rescue Han and destroy the Death Star. Our enemies today aren't always our enemies tomorrow."

"Lando's not a bounty hunter," Luke replied stubbornly. "Let alone one with a reputation for killing Jedi."

"Your  _dad_  killed more Jedi than every bounty hunter in the galaxy put together," Fett noted as he cut another slice off the apple. "I only kill Jedi under contract, and occasionally for a good cause. I have neither for you, so you can sleep easy. At least for as long as your sister sleeps with me."

Leia jerked back, shocked by the naked threat. " _Boba_."

Luke shook his head swiftly. "No, no, this is good. Let's just lay our cards on the table. You're saying I'm safe while you're with her, but you're not, Fett. Hurt her, and I promise you you'll regret it."

The bounty hunter turned the knife deftly in his hand, stabbing it effortlessly through the apple's core and into the wooden chopping block below. Luke held his gaze, his blue eyes impassive.

Leia made a small sound of disgust. "If you two are going to glare at each other all night, I'm going to bed."

"I'm leaving," her brother said abruptly. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Can't wait," Leia replied brightly. As soon as the door shut behind him, she slid further down on the sofa and stared at the ceiling grimly. She missed Concord Dawn. Everything was so much simpler there. She turned her head and looked over at Fett. "You really couldn't have put on some pants before you walked out here?"

"You think pants would have fooled them?"

She gave him a look for that. "I wasn't trying to fool anyone, but I wasn't planning to rub their faces in it either."

He crossed over to the window and leaned against the ledge, his arms crossed over his chest. Beyond the tinted glass, Coruscant traffic passed by in long streaks of light. "I heard voices. I wasn't expecting anyone but you. Should I have hid under your bed?"

There was an edge in his voice that made Leia sat up a little. "You don't think I'm ashamed of you, do you?"

"Are you?" He didn't look offended, merely curious.

"Of course not." She paused and sighed. "Boba."

He turned his head to look at her.

"Luke is my only family. There are no circumstances that would ever make killing him acceptable."

"Not even if he became a Sith?"

Leia blinked, taken aback by the thought. "That would never happen. Luke is a Jedi."

"Most Sith start out that way."

"Not even then. Is that understood?"

Fett turned back to the window. "He wouldn't give you the same chance."

"What is  _that_  supposed to mean?"

"Jedi see only light and dark, black and white, good and evil. They make no exceptions for family."

"Well that's not Luke," she insisted. "He thought Darth Vader was redeemable, for the gods' sake."

The bounty hunter didn't respond, withdrawing from the argument into silence. The tactic never failed to annoy her. "When are you scheduled to depart?"

"In about five hours."

There was a tense silence, long enough for Leia to decide that she didn't want to fight. She patted the couch. "Come sit with me. How is everyone at Clan Bard?"

He came, but his back was stiff against the soft cushions. "Don't know. I left right after you did." He caught her questioning look and shrugged. "My lease was up."

"Oh." Her fingers twisted together in her lap. "Fenn asked me to come back after the treaty is ratified."

"I know. But you don't need me."

Leia eased off her shoes and tucked her bare feet up onto the couch. She wasn't sure why this felt so uncomfortable. He'd been in her apartment before, but then everything about that week was an aberration. Now that she was trying to make him fit, everything about him, from his posture to the rough texture of his clothing just looked strange and out of place.

"I guess we're not going to see each other much, between your schedule and mine."

His eyes slid over to her, but he said nothing.

"I was thinking about buying a house in Keldabe." When that also failed to provoke a response, Leia became irritated. "Could you please say something so I don't feel like I'm talking to myself?"

"Real estate is a good investment."

"'Real estate is good investment,'" she echoed, mimicking his monotone. "Says the bounty hunter. Do you even own any property besides your ship?"

"Yes."

Leia waited, but no further information was offered. She suppressed another sigh and unhooked her outer robe. Underneath she wore a strapless dark sheath, the hem drawn up in the front to show a glimpse of her legs through the sheer violet underskirt. Her jewelry was understated, simple gold hoops hung from her ears and thin gold chains circled her neck. A plain outfit by Coruscant standards, but far fancier than anything she'd worn on Concord Dawn. She shrugged off the robe, baring her shoulders and arms, and his eyes flickered in her direction.

It was a shame she hadn't come home alone. Her mind drifted back to how sleek and solid he looked, the jet black of his wet hair, the little droplets of water clinging to his smooth tan skin. There would have been no words, no time for him to even put down his gun. She would have been pressed against him in a second, devouring his mouth, one hand tugging on the back of his neck and the other stroking him underneath that fluffy blue towel. Leia drew in a sharp breath and rose up on her knees on the couch. She straddled his lap, her skirt bunched around her legs. Fett leaned back against the cushions, his head tilted up to watch her face.

"A Hutt walks into a bar on Ord Mantell and orders the strongest drink in the house. The bartender gives it to him, and after one sip, the Hutt falls over," her fingers trailed down his chest, reaching between them to unsnap his pants. "Dead." She wrapped her fingers around him. "And then...oh, what was it..."

"The bartender says something." There was a rasp to his voice, and his body tensed beneath hers as her grip tightened.

"Oh, that's right." She smirked down at him. "I was beginning to think you weren't listening."

His eyes briefly closed in response to the slow, sure movement of her hand. "Fuck."

"Maybe later. Pay attention, Fett. There's something important I want to ask you." His hands clenched into fists against the cushions and then moved abruptly to her hips, a sure sign of impatience. If she gave him the chance, he would flip her onto her back in a second. She gave him a warning squeeze, just to remind him that if tried, he would regret it. It only made him harder. "If I buy a house in Keldabe, will you come visit me?"

"If that's what you want."

"I want you...in Keldabe, or Coruscant, or wherever else. Whenever possible." She laughed softly. "It sounds a little desperate, doesn't it? What I'm trying to say is, I think we can find a way to make it work. If that's what  _you_ want."

After the slightest pause, he nodded.

"And you're not just saying that because of where my hand is?"

He shook his head, the corner of his mouth curling into a faint smile. Leia leaned forward and kissed him, and his arms came around her as she lowered her mouth to his ear. "Also, I'm not wearing any underwear."

Fett looked at her silently for a moment, then lifted her skirt for confirmation. He exhaled and let it fall back down. "You're never going to tell me the end of that fucking joke, are you?"

"Why should I?" she asked, standing so she could release the pressure clasp on the side of her gown. "It's not as if you'd laugh."


	14. Naboo

He saw the speeder reach the ridge about four miles away. Boba Fett adjusted his long-range scope, narrowing in on the small craft as it came to a halt. A man in a guard's uniform got out, and began to walk around the speeder, but the woman was already climbing out. Leia jumped lightly to the ground, despite her cumbersome robes. The guard looked around at the wilderness surrounding them, his hand his blaster. He said something Leia, but she waved her hand dismissively. He got back into his speeder and turned the craft back to Theed.

Leia waited until he was gone before stripping off her ornate robes. Underneath she wore a tight tan bodysuit with a heavy utility belt. Not just a belt, Fett noted. A blastek plate belt, with three removable pieces that could be assembled into a working blaster. He considered such gadgets impractical. No matter how fast such a gun could be assembled, it was still no match for a standard blaster.

She rolled her robes into a bundle and turned on her comlink's remote transmitter. A light came on in his helmet and the location signal from  _Slave_ _I_  was instantly transmitted back to her. "There you are," she said. "I was beginning to think I'd been stood up."

"I'm three klicks east of the signal. Start walking and I'll meet you."

"Copy that." She slung the bundle onto her back and started off into the woods.

Fett readjusted his scope, focusing in on the valley below him. His quarry was breaking camp. The gungan was visible in snatches through the trees as he moved around, gathering his equipment. Then he stopped abruptly and changed direction, moving toward a rangewave scanner sitting on a stump. He'd picked up Leia's signal, close and getting closer. There was a flurry of activity as he grabbed for his gear.

Har-emm Mana was clever for a gungan. Clever enough to have eluded capture for three days, hiding in his native forests and swamps on Naboo, keeping a sharp eye on all radio and communications activity. But now, like all prey, he'd reached the point of panic.

The point where they all ran.

Boba Fett waited. One minute. Two minutes. Three. Leia was almost to Mana's abandoned camp. Four minutes. Five. Six. Seven. He flipped the switch on his remote activator, filling it hum against his palm as it charged. Eight. Nine. Ten. He depressed the trigger, and the concussion grenades went off, creating a line of smoke in the trees.

The gungan was down. He moved the scope back to Leia's assumed position, but she was nowhere in sight. That wasn't right. She wasn't nearly close enough to have been affected by the grenades. He caught a slight movement behind a tree and zoomed in. Leia leaned out from behind the broad trunk, assembled blastek in hand. He checked the time. Damn fast. Better than damn fast.

"Leia."

She fumbled for her comlink. "Boba? What the hell _was_  that?"

"I told you I was here on business. You can cut toward the signal now. My ETA should be within fifty."

Forty-eight minutes later he deposited an unconscious gungan into a holding cage aboard _Slave_ _I_  and set the cell security codes. "So," he said when his work was completed, "how was the Galactic Summit on Sentient Rights?"

"Brutal," Leia replied, stowing her pack in a wall bin. "Seven days of debates, and I still have an entire holodrive of presentations to review before the committee convenes on Coruscant. We heard speeches on slavery, prostitution, cloning, genocide...even illegal Ewok fighting, which has apparently become a real problem on Malastare." She shook her head as if she was trying to clear it. "Anyway, I appreciate the ride."

"I appreciate your arrival," he said, inclining his head toward his unconscious passenger. "It could have taken me another day or two to get him away from his scanner."

Leia looked him over. "So who is he?"

"His name is Har-emm Mana. He set himself up as a conservation crusader and conned a couple of rich donors out of very large sums of money before he was caught."

"If he was caught, why didn't he stand trial?"

"He did. The evidence was insufficient."

Her mouth twisted into a wry smile. "Justice for the those who can afford it?"

"Better than none at all."

She stared at him for a long moment. "You know, I could have stayed and listened to lecture on education reform. I could have gone out to dinner with a bunch of very influential beings who spent the entire week lying to me about their position on strip mining. I could have avoided becoming an accomplice in the illegal extradition of a exonerated criminal. But here I am."

"Welcome aboard."

She gave him a tired, but genuine smile. "How soon can you get rid of your cargo? I have the weekend free after the committee meeting."

"I may not be available. My client also wants their money back. I need the gungan to give up the location."

Her smile flattened. "Do I want to know how you're going to do that"

"By asking. Would you like to help?"

Outrage started to bloom on her face, but curiosity overtook it. "...By doing what, exactly?"

He woke Har-emm Mana in the usual way: with a bucket of cold water. The gungan sputtered and coughed, water flying off of his long ears as he shook his head vigorously. "W-who-"

"My name is Boba Fett, and you are my prisoner. Listen carefully to the rules. I will not repeat them. You will eat what you are given. You will sleep when I turn out the lights. No talking to the other prisoner. You may not find your cell comfortable, but break any of the rules and I will make it less comfortable."

"Thesa," gasped the gungan. "Thesa a terrible misunderstanding. Mesa wouldn't take a fly from a frog, mesa-"

"Silence."

Leia was sitting on the floor of the opposite cell, her hands cuffed behind her back. Fett walked over the wall and opened an instrument panel that had long since become useless. He made a show of reconnecting wires and toying with the switches. After a few minutes he abandoned his futile efforts and went up the ladder to the cockpit, sealing the door behind him.

Back at the helm, he turned into the surveillance cams that gave him three different angles of his holding cages and started to download coordinates into the nav computer. "He's such a  _bastard_ ," he heard Leia say through the audio. She squirmed, moving her bound hands restlessly. "You okay there, mister? You slept for a long time."

The gungan looked around warily and didn't answer.  _Slave_ _I_ _'_ s engines roared to life, and both of them were forced to scramble as ship drew upright. Fett piloted his ship out of the forest and made preparations for the jump to lightspeed.

"It's okay, you know," Leia was saying. "He can't hear us. There's something wrong with his cams. See that panel over there? It blew a fuse last night. Sparks and everything."

Mana looked, and then drew closer to the bars, speaking in a near-whisper. "Mesa have to get out of here, very bad men will hurt mesa. And mesa is innocent!"

"Me too!" Leia insisted. "I mean, it was all my boyfriend's idea. And Daddy has soooo much money, he never would have missed it if his assboy accountant hadn't squealed on me."

The gungan clutched his hands in desperation. "Yousa said the cams were knocked out. Any other sparkies that yousa see? Some other zapped thing maybe? Something to help mesa and yousa?"

"What?" She stared at him rudely. "Oh. I get it. No, I didn't see anything else go out. I just noticed that he stopped yelling at me for talking." She turned her head toward the door. "Fett! You cocksucker! See?" she said to Mana, who nodded and rubbed his long-fingered hands together. "Don't worry so much. Even if he catches us talking, he'll just cuff you." She rattled the binders on her wrists in illustration. "This was before the cams blew. Oh, and just so you know, his food is  _disgusting_ , but he really doesn't like it when you don't eat."

"Thesa terrible," moaned the gungan. "This all bombad."

Leia turned her head to look at him, a flicker of concern crossing her face. "So...what did you do?"

"Mesa told you! Mesa  _innocent_."

"Well, what does he  _think_  you did?"

"Mesa not  _know_. Mesa all hoppy-dory and helping collect money, and one day boom, boss say mesa thief. Court say no thief, and mesa happy until Boba Fett show up. Mesa gonna  _die_."

"Can't you explain what happened? Not to Fett," she added. "He's impossible to explain anything to. Believe me, I've tried. Maybe you could talk to whoever paid Fett to bring you in. You could tell your side of the story."

"Hesa never believe me," Mana said sorrowfully. "When money go missing, always blame gungan."

Leia was quiet for a few minutes, considering this. "How much money went missing?"

"Five thousanda credits."

Fett glanced at the monitor. The total was actually closer to five  _hundred_   thousand.

"Is that all? Offer him twice that."

"Mesa no have ten thousanda credits either."

"I do. Daddy thinks the money disappeared with Brandt – that's my boyfriend – but he hid it in some kind of special account." She screwed her face as if she were concentrating hard. "What was it? Some kind of tunnel account, but it's not called a tunnel account."

Mana raised his head, his yellow eyes bright with interest. "A bunker account?"

"Yes! That's it! It was...oh...on Malastare, I think. Came with protection insurance and everything."

"Malastare no good place for money," the gungan said disapprovingly. "Protection insurance just words. Best place to have bunker account is Nar Shaddaa."

Leia, to her credit, didn't break character. "Really? Why is that?"

"Weequay called F'usun, best bunker banker. Knows all secrets of trade. Money safe there, no questions." Mana paused. "Mesa help you move money there, if yousa help me. Yousa have rich family, yousa can-"

The hatch door opened and Fett stepped down into the holding bay. "I said no talking."

The gungan gave a startled squeak.

"Oh c'mon," Leia returned. "We're just talking to kill the time. It doesn't concern you, bounty hunter."

He crossed to her cell in two swift strides and deactivated the bars. "No, wait," she said, scrambling backwards. He caught her by the upper arm and dragged her to her feet. "I'm sorry!" she protested, cowering. "I won't talk again. Let me go...No!" He dragged her out of the cell and towards the door. She didn't make it easy on him. He had to throw her over his shoulder to get up the ladder.

Instead of going straight up to the cockpit, he opened the hatch to his living quarters and shoved her in, hard enough that she bounced off the opposite wall. He went through after her and shut the door behind them. Leia was leaning against the wall, her cheeks flushed and her chest heaving from her struggles. He took a step closer to her and she squirmed a little, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. "Oh gods," she muttered. "This is so wrong."

He didn't disagree. Today she might be willing to put on binders and enter a cell, but not that long ago, Leia could easily have been his captive. If Vader hadn't been so obsessed with Skywalker, or Jabba with Solo...

Leia rolled her hips suggestively against him and he made up his mind to stop engaging in pointless speculation immediately. He took off his helmet and kissed her, pressing her back into the wall. "Cocksucker?" he said when he released her.

"First thing that came to mind," she said breathlessly. "You know, I was really beginning to think for a minute that you might have caught the wrong -" She stopped abruptly, something in his face or eyes seemed to amuse her. "I should have known better," she said and leaned in for another hungry kiss.

Fett put his hand on top of her head and she went willingly to her knees, her hands still cuffed behind her. He got rid of his groin armor and unsnapped his pants. He slowly guided his cock into her mouth, watching her lips stretch wider and her nostrils flare. She looked up at him, a flutter of black lashes giving him permission to move.

It was really a poignant demonstration of trust, one he tried to honor even as the wet press of her tongue nearly destroyed him. Without the use of her hands, she had no control over the speed or depth of his thrusts. Once or twice she coughed a little, but she also moaned, the muffled sound full of pleasure. His hands were fists, braced against the wall so he wouldn't put them in her hair and fuck her throat raw. He kept an even, measured pace, no matter how much it tortured him. His release clawed its way out of the maddening rhythm and he slumped forward, resting his forehead against the cool metal. His breathing sounded loud and harsh to his own ears, and he could feel perspiration clinging to him under his armor.

Leia looked very pleased with herself. He pulled her up and pressed a kiss into her neck as he slid one hand behind her and unlocked the binder on her left wrist. She let herself be led to the bunk, her brows arching upward when he hooked the binders over a compression pipe and recaptured her left wrist. She lay on the bunk with her arms bound over her head, watching him while he removed her belt.

Her clothing was tight, it took some effort to wrestle the top up over her breasts. Her boots came off next, followed by her pants and underwear. She squirmed a little under his gaze, an unspoken question in her eyes. The low ceiling of the bunk made most sexual positions difficult, and penetration was obviously off the table for the moment.

When his own impatience wasn't a factor, there was a perverse enjoyment in making her wait. He unhurriedly removed his gloves and laid them aside before he touched her bare legs, stroking the smooth skin of her thighs before he purposefully parted her legs. He bit the soft inside of her thigh and she jerked against him. He casually licked the bite mark and dragged his tongue right to the center of her heat. Leia gave a soft cry and pulled mindlessly at her bound wrists. It served her right. The last time he did this, she nearly pulled a handful of his hair out by the roots.

He spread his hands flat over her thighs, feeling her muscles tighten as she arched up a little. This too, had a pace and a rhythm to it, but it was hard to focus when she was twisting beneath him, making all kinds of interesting noises in response to his efforts. He stopped once, just for a moment, so he could fully appreciate the sight of her body taut as a bowstring and begging for that final, finishing touch.

She gave a furious, disbelieving huff and nearly bruised his side with a wild kick. A faint smirk tugged at his mouth as he leaned a little more of his weight on her thighs, holding her legs down. The moment might have cost him some momentum, but momentum could be rebuilt. The pace became relentless and his focus absolute.

This time her hands were safely contained when she came. Fett left her panting on the bunk and went to the adjacent 'fresher. He rinsed his mouth twice and started to clean his teeth.

"Boba."

He leaned around the door frame. "Do you mind?" She asked, rattling the binders. He gave her the "one minute" sign and finished his teeth. When he returned to the berth, she had pulled herself up on her knees and was trying to unhook the binders herself. He released her immediately, rubbing her wrists carefully to restore circulation. These binders were not made for comfort, they left red marks on her skin. "Hurt?"

"No. They're fine." She pulled her hands back. "You know you don't have to do that, right?"

"You seemed to enjoy it."

"I did," she pulled her shirt over her head and completely off. Sweaty little tendrils of hair clung to her face. "But then you do  _that_ ," she said, nodding toward the 'fresher. "Immediately after. If you don't like doing it, you don't have to." She clumsily folded her shirt and tossed it aside. "You do know other ways to get me off."

"I like doing it. I just don't like the way it tastes."

Leia stared at him for a long moment. "Right," she said, taking a deep breath. "Remind me never to ask you if something makes me look fat."

He looked down at her slender figure. It was hard to imagine anything that could make her appear fat. "I need to send confirmation of capture to my client."

"Go," she said with a wave of her hand. "I have reports to review anyway."

He replaced his helmet and went up to the cockpit. Surveillance feed of the hold showed that Har-emm Mana had neither moved nor spoken since he'd dragged Leia from the bay. The gungan was sitting in the corner of his cell, hugging his knees and rocking slightly. Fett was running a quick diagnostics scan on  _Slave_ _I_ 's operations when the comm panel from his quarters lit up. "Can I borrow something to sleep in?"

"Right-hand bin over the bunk."

Satisfied that all systems were operating as normal, he directed any alerts to the berth and started to exit the cockpit. The comm panel lit up again. "You need some new shirts."

He tilted his head to one side, puzzled, and then went back down the ladder to his quarters. Leia was stretched out on the bunk with a portable holo player beside her and a datapad on her knees. She was wearing one of his undershirts and a pair of light drawstring pants. Fett removed his helmet and began to methodically remove his armor. After three days in the wilds of Naboo, he was in need of a shower and a clean suit. "What's wrong with my shirts?"

Leia looked up from the holo player, which was showing jerky headcam footage of some heavily forested world. "This was best one I could find," she said, plucking at the thin fabric, "and it's been washed so many times it's practically see-through."

He could hardly dispute that. He could clearly see both dark pink nipples, as well as her areolas. It didn't seem to necessitate new shirts. Sometimes when he visited her on Coruscant, she would wear light, flimsy garments to bed that were equally as transparent.

The holo player made a noise, the faint, unmistakable call of a Wookiee emerging from the audio transmitters. Fett continued to undress, watching the feed as the headcam's owner came to a halt. Something moved in the brush, and after a few seconds a Wookiee cautiously emerged. A female, not yet fully grown. She sniffed the air, catching a whiff of her pursuers. A low growl sounded through the woods as she turned and charged.

The first crossbow bolt caught the Wookiee in the chest, and she went reeling backward, her arms flailing comically. The second bolt caught the side of her head, spinning her body as she fell face-first into a broad tree trunk. Fett gave a short laugh, and then stopped immediately when he realized Leia was watching him with a disturbed expression.

"I asked you once if anything ever made you laugh," she said she ejected the datachip from the player. "For the record, I withdraw the question." She looked at the chip thoughtfully. "Some very rich and very bored people put together a specialized hunting club for 'rare' game. In this case, 'rare' means anyone who doesn't look human enough to suit them. This is allegedly from one of their Wookiee hunting trips. I don't suppose you know anything about it?"

"No, but I'm not surprised. Wookiees are difficult prey, especially in their own environment."

Her gaze drifted over to where he'd laid his shoulder guards. "Is that why you wear those scalps? Trophies from a difficult hunt?"

"When I was seventeen, I was hunting a Wookiee named Felomba on a remote part of Kashyyyk. I caught him, but two of his brothers ambushed me and one of them knocked me out. When I woke up, my armor and weapons were gone, the only thing they left was symbol scratched in the dirt. A Shyriiwook mark meaning 'hunt.'" Fett shrugged and began to unfasten the front of his suit. "So they hunted me. For four days. They should have been able to kill me in half that time, but I guess they were having too much fun. That was their mistake. I killed them all and scalped his brothers."

"But you didn't scalp Felomba?"

"I skinned him entirely. Made a good rug."

She grimaced at that. "I'm surprised you don't have it on display in the cargo hold."

"I gave it to my wife." The memory flickered like a flame against his naked palm before he snuffed it out. "If she was smart, she sold it. It would have brought a good price on the black market." He peeled off his undershirt and dropped it in the laundry bin with his suit. He added his shorts and pushed the bin in, activating the wash cycle.

He showered and then put on a simple shirt and pants. He shouldn't need to return to the helm for several hours, a nap would not be unwelcome. If Leia wasn't too tired, he would even be willing to give sex in the cramped confines of the bunk a shot.

Leia was still at work when he emerged from the 'fresher,, her hand poised over her datapad and her eyes fixed on the flickering images in the holo field. Music played in the background, swelling high as rows of troopers in spotless white armor began to march by. The camera drew back slowly to show the training facility on Kamino.

"They won the war," the narrator's voice boomed. "And helped the Emperor exterminate the Jedi Order. But who were these men?"

"Have you seen this?" Leia asked, not looking up. "It's a new documentary. Some of the footage came from classified Imperial archives."

Scenes of clones sitting in the mess hall flashed by, putting on their armor, playing bolo-ball. A classroom with hundreds of identical students, dark-haired little boys, absorbed in their studies. Leia smiled vaguely and then glanced up at him, her train of thought not difficult to follow. "Yes," he said abruptly. "That's exactly what I looked like."

Her smile widened, and she rested her head against the wall as she looked up at him. "You know, sometimes I forget."

"You're young."

"That's not why." She turned back to the projector. "You know what they say about the clone wars now? They say 'it was another time,' as if that excuses manufacturing millions of men to fight our battles for us. But I guess it's easy for people like me-" Her tone turned slightly mocking "- _young_  people to say it shouldn't have happened." She paused and gave a rueful shrug. "And it might make me a hypocrite, but it's hard for me to be sorry you exist."

The narrator's voice rose again. "Genetic source material for the clones was gathered from a savage Mandalorian bounty hunt-" Fett reached over and turned it off. It felt like a violation to see his childhood memories on display, but now Leia was looking at him with her eyebrows raised and he wished he had left it alone.

"I'm tired," he said, not untruthfully. "Could you work on this later?"

"Of course."

His reaction chafed him as much as the footage did. It shouldn't bother him. He had plenty of good memories of Kamino. They all seemed good now, right up until the day his dad took off for Coruscant to help a colleague assassinate a Senator from Naboo. He watched Leia as she gathered up her work and briefly contemplated her own brush with nonexistence.

"They made a documentary about Alderaan," she said. "A few years ago. It was called _539_ , for the number of Alderaani citizens that survived by being offworld during the Empire's attack. They interviewed all of us. They interviewed me three separate times. I'm not in the final cut," she finished, shutting off her datapad. "It was right after the news about Darth Vader came out."

He laid down beside her on the narrow bunk and she turned toward him in the tight space, bringing her hands up to touch his face. Her thumb brushed over his lower lip in a teasing imitation of a kiss. His pulse picked up in response.

"I wouldn't mind," Leia said. "If you ever wanted to talk about your wife."

This was not where he wanted this to go. "Some parts of our past are better left there."

"Fair enough," she said, shifting and pressing closer. Her fingers smoothed over the hair at the nape of his neck. "But if we can't talk about the past, and we can't talk about the future, we might eventually run out of conversation topics."

"I never said we couldn't talk about the future."

Leia gave him a skeptical look.

"You're right." He slid his hand over the curve of her hip, caressing her bottom through the loose pants. "Not a good idea." He kissed her, holding her tight enough to feel her warmth of her skin seeping through to his own. He took the time to appreciate how thin the fabric of his undershirt really was, even more transparent when wet by his mouth. Her nipples grew hard against his tongue, but there were no soft whimpers, no press of nails against his shoulders. He was not a quitter. He moved the shirt up and fought on.

"Damn it," she said, frustratingly articulate. "Now I'm curious. What do you think the future holds?"

He let his forehead rest between her breasts, searching through the haze in his mind for the correct response. She put her hands on his face, not gently this time, and forced him to look up at her. "Tell me."

He wanted to lie to her. Wanted to, and wouldn't. "This will end. Not today, but someday soon."

"That's awfully-" She frowned and pulled back, her voice sharp. "Wait a minute, are you breaking up with me?"

"No. You'll probably be the one to end it."

"Oh I will, will I?" There was no doubt about it. She was pissed off. "And why would I do that?"

"A relationship with me could only be a liability to your career."

"You're the only reason I still have a career," she reminded him. "The Senate wouldn't have had me as a gift before the Mandalore treaty."

He shook his head. "Mandalore is the only place in the galaxy where a recommendation from me invokes nostalgia instead of fear and suspicion. You're very good at what you do. You'll climb higher." He paused, trying to find a simple way to explain it. "I can't put on a suit and go with you to state dinners."

"I wouldn't ask you to. And as much as I appreciate the vote of confidence, state dinners are not really a concern for me right now. Why can't we just keep meeting like this, fitting it in when we can?"

"We can, but someday it won't be enough. Human connections are not constant. They have to grow, they have to be reinforced over time. That's why people get married. It's why they have children. If you decided that you wanted children-"

"Have I ever said anything about children, ever?" She interrupted, incredulous and angry. "Why would you even mention  _that_?"

"I would never have children with you."

Leia jerked as if he'd slapped her.

"With anyone force-sensitive," he added quickly.

"Move," she said, and it sounded like she was speaking through her teeth. "I want to get up." He rolled up into a sitting position so she could swing her legs over the side of the bunk. "I never said I wanted children," she said as she stood. "Luke says it isn't always passed on genetically, but he doesn't really know. No one does. Do you think I haven't thought about it? Do you think I haven't been very, _very_  careful to avoid bringing the next Darth Vader into this galaxy? I don't want children, and I don't care about getting married right now. I just want  _this_ _._ I like  _this_." Her voice broke unexpectedly, her anger submerged by something deeper. "You're the only person in my life I can be completely honest with. I like  _that_."

"I like that too."

"Then why would you say all of this now?"

"I didn't say it because I want this end. I said it because  _when_  it ends, I would like for us to stay friends. Or at least allies," he added when he saw her reaction. "In your line of work, there may come a time when you need someone you can trust to do a job for you. And there may come a time in mine when I need someone with your connections. We could still be useful to one another."

"Useful," she said flatly. He gave a spare shrug in response. She turned to leave the berth.

"Where are you going? Back to the cargo bay?"

She stopped abruptly.  _Slave_ _I_  had a very limited amount of passenger seating. To storm out of the berth might be satisfying, but it would mean spending the rest of the trip in the holding area with Ha-emm Mana. She spun back around to face him, her chin high. "I'll stay here. You can sleep in the cockpit."

She was dead serious about kicking him out of his own bed. Fett stood, face to face with her in the small space. He kept his voice low and even. "I said it wouldn't be today."

Anger flashed deep in her eyes. "Well, guess what? You're not always right."

"I wasn't trying to upset you. I just thought-"

"You just thought you should plan ahead," she interrupted. Her mouth turned upward, but she wasn't really smiling. "I get it. However, there is a such a thing," her soft voice was out of sync with her hard expression, "as too much preparation."

He thought he understood. "You don't want to stay friends."

"No, Boba, that's not it." She sounded frustrated. Without another word she flopped down onto the bunk and rolled over with her back to him. "I'm going to sleep. Turn off the light, would you?"

He did, and then hesitated, not sure what he should do next. "Move over," he said, expecting her to turn around and order him up to the cockpit again. Instead she scooted closer to the wall without a word. The space she left him was adequate, but there was no way to avoid his shoulder pressing into her back.

He felt her shoulders jerk slightly, and then again a few seconds later. Her breathing was uneven. Suddenly sleeping at the helm looked like a reasonable, even attractive alternative, but he couldn't bring himself to retreat now. After about an hour, Leia's breathing evened out. He didn't sleep at all.


	15. Basilisk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An assassination attempt and a fair amount of angst.

The laboratory had hydrostatic lights, bathing the room in an unearthly greenish light. It was so crowded with equipment, Leia could hardly find a place to stand. This was all "appropriated" equipment, taken from the Imperial laboratories and research centers when Coruscant was taken over by the Alliance.

"Hello," she said hesitantly, her voice lost the hum of machines. The claustrophobic atmosphere, plus the endless stream of blinking lights had the effect of making her feel slightly dizzy. She took a breath and spoke again, louder. "Is anyone here?"

"One moment."

Her heart jumped into her throat, and she turned swiftly around. There was a man in the corner of the room, behind a transparent display field filled with programming codes and diagrams of missiles. He made a few careful alterations to his code module and the diagrams on the display field refreshed. It didn't look any different to Leia, but he seemed satisfied. His attention shifted to her, regarding her blankly through the display field.

"I'm Leia Organa," she said, her pulse still pounding from the shock of realizing she wasn't alone. "The representative from the Weaponry and Defense Research Committee."

"Oh right," he said. "The report. Sorry." He stepped back from the display field and gave her a doubtful look. "You're not the usual bureaucrat they send."

"Senator Ramoss had to step down from the committee," Leia said. "For obvious reasons." When the his expression remained blank, she realized he didn't know. "It interfered with his ability to prepare for his upcoming bribery and extortion trial."

"Oh." He blinked and gave her an apologetic shrug. "I don't get out of the lab much." He pressed his thumb into a scanner on a file storage unit and began flipping through the data pads inside, giving Leia a chance to look him over. A number of Imperial scientists and technicians had defected at the end of the war, pragmatically choosing their jobs and their research over political loyalties. They were generally human and male, with pasty skin and gray hair (when they had hair at all). This man was young, in his mid-thirties at most, with a mop of dark hair and a natural tan. Oddly familiar, too, not as if she'd met him, but as if she'd seen a picture of him. Perhaps he was famous for something his field, that would explain how someone so young had become the head of a division.

"Organa, was it?" He looked up, datapad in hand. "You're an ambassador?"

"Just call me Leia," she said with a polite smile. After a beat, he returned the gesture, offering his hand awkwardly over the top of the file drawer.

"I'm Bo Rentheon." They shook hands as well as they could, and he returned his attention to the datapad. "You're on the list. Got an authorization code for me?" He appeared to have the code memorized, because he kept his eyes on her while she rattled it off. "Good. Let me plug this in and I'll walk you through the summary. There's a chair in here somewhere, if you want to sit."

"A chair?" Leia took a look around, but she couldn't see a single thing that looked like a seat.

"Under the table, to your left," he said without looking up from his task. She looked again, seeing first the table nearly buried in electronic innards, and then the tall stool tucked underneath it.

"I guess that's one way to keep your team on their feet," she tried to joke, but Bo looked puzzled.

"There's no team. Just me." He connected the datapad to a display field, and a long string of formulas appeared next to a series of holographic images.

She looked around again, impressed. "You do all this by yourself?"

"I work better alone." His hands moved deftly over the display controls, highlighting and pulling out various elements. "Section A is containment status. The short version is-" There was a sharp beeping noise, and Bo paused, his eyes scanning the table. He picked up a personal communicator out of the mess and checked the screen before pushing a button to silence it. "It's my mother. I'll call her back later."

"If you're sure it's nothing important." Leia opened a new section for notes on her own datapad, but when she raised her eyes the technician was looking at her thoughtfully. She raised her eyebrows at him, and one corner of his mouth rose into a half-smile.

"You didn't say it."

"Say what?"

"'Clones don't have mothers,'" he said, in a pointed way that made it sound like a quote. Once again, Leia was caught off guard, but now that he'd said it, it was obvious.

"You didn't notice?" Bo studied her flustered face with surprise and a little amusement. "I guess you're too young."

"I'm adopted," Leia quickly deflected, ignoring the heat in her cheeks. "The parents we have aren't always the parents we start with."

Dark eyes studied her intently for a second or two, then he inclined his head slightly. "Well said." He returned his attention to the display. "I was the prototype," he told her as he dragged a few elements to his outline. "The bounty hunter they used as a template for the army wanted an unmodified copy of himself, but then he decided he wasn't cut out for changing diapers. He gave me the name Boba, and then he paid my foster parents a very large annual sum to raise me until I was five. Believe it or not, he had some crazy idea of training me to be a bounty hunter."

"And you had to start your training at  _five_?"

"That was his plan. Didn't quite work out that way. Turns out, five years old is old enough to have an opinion, and I made mine very clear." There was an underlying grimness to his words that made Leia want to ask exactly what he did, but he continued in a more cheerful tone. "Luckily, Mom and Dad were used to me by then, so it all worked out."

"That's quite a story. What happened to the bounty hunter?"

"Backed the separatists during the war and died, poor bastard. What about you? What's your story?"

"I was adopted as a newborn. My birth mother died when I was born, and my birth father..." She stopped, unable to even connect those words with the monster they applied to. "...he's not really worth mentioning. My - the Organas were the only family I ever knew."

"Knew." Bo repeated, glancing up from his work. "Past tense?"

"They died on Alderaan."

"Sorry," he said with a grimace. "I shouldn't have asked." He showed no sign of recognizing the name or connecting it with her homeworld's destruction. Leia supposed he was telling the truth when he said he rarely left his lab. It was sort of nice, not to be known. "I don't really mind talking about them now." Not when there were so many other subjects she was desperate to avoid. "Can I ask you a question?"

His hand tightened on the stylus as he made a quick notation on his datapad, as if he were bracing himself. "Sure."

"How did you end up working for the Empire?"

"They hired me. Right out of university." He smiled self-consciously and shrugged. "I guess the bounty hunter was kind of smart."

"And now you're working for the Alliance."

His expression turned wary. "A job's a job."

"Everything you did for the Empire is covered under the general amnesty for citizens. I'm just curious," Leia tried to reassure him. "You could have said no. Some of the other scientists and lab techs did."

Bo gave it a minute of cautious consideration before replying."Legally speaking, I'm not a citizen. No birth certificate, no identity code. But as long as I worked for the Empire, my papers were always in order. My work was important to them." He looked unseeingly at the code in front of him. "So when some other government shows up and says 'hey, we're in charge now, come work for us...'" He shrugged again, tapping the stylus restlessly against the table. "The smart thing to do is to say yes."

"Your work is very important," she acknowledged. "But there's no reason you shouldn't also be a legal resident. It just so happens that the director of immigration is a friend of mine, if you want I could talk to him-"

"No, thank you." He paused and ran a quick hand through his unruly hair. "I mean, please don't. My family is here. My sisters. I'm going to be an uncle in a few months. I don't want trouble."

There was fear in his voice, it settled into her stomach like a stone. "We're not the Empire."

"It doesn't matter. If my application is denied, I'll be in system as illegal. I won't be able to work anywhere in the core. It's better not to be noticed. It's  _always_  better not to be noticed."

Leia knew he might be right. But that didn't mean she had to  _like_ it. She looked around the lab again and saw the mess for what it really was. Long hours, because he had to make himself useful to his employers. No coworkers, because one call from an ambitious subordinate could mean deportation. It wasn't really a laboratory. It was a fortress, a carefully constructed method of defense and protection. "I won't say anything if you don't want me to."

"Thank you." His posture relaxed visibly. She noticed he was holding the stylus in his fist now, the way someone might hold a knife. That struck her as a little odd.

He flipped it back around in his hand and went back to his datapad as if nothing had happened. "So, how do you want this formatted?"

"I just wish there was something I could do help."

"It's not that bad," he said with a shrug.

"It's not  _right_." Leia couldn't stop her anger from coloring her words.

He didn't look up immediately, but when he did his expression had softened into a wry smile. "I know." There was another pause, long enough for Leia to wonder why she no longer felt dizzy and if she was actually having a moment with an ex-Imperial weapons technician. The answer to the second question was yes. Definitely yes. Bo seemed to be reaching the same conclusion, because he set down the stylus, pushed back a wild curl on his forehead and smiled at her again. He had a nice smile, she thought. Sort of playful. Her heart skipped a beat.

"You know, even for a summary, this is pretty heavy stuff. Goes down better with beer."

"It does?"

"I think so. You want to talk through it over dinner? If you like spicy food there's a great Corellian place around the corner."

She dropped her eyes, searching for a way out of this conversational corner. "I...I probably shouldn't."

"Okay," he replied, carefully neutral. "Strictly business, then."

"I'm sorry," Leia tried to explain. "I just got out of a relationship, I'm not really in a great place right now."

"Right. Back to the summary. Format?"

A shrill beeping sound broke in, and Leia looked around, grateful for the interruption. "If that's your mother again, I can wait-"

"Senator?"

"Senator?" She repeated, confused. The dizzy feeling returned, and the room grew fuzzy around the edges. "Hey, what..."

"Senator?"

Leia bolted upright in bed, blinking and disoriented. Why was she in bed with her clothes on? She looked up and saw the concerned face of Adira Bard, a member of her senatorial guard. "Are you okay?" She demanded. "Do you feel sick?"

"No, I-" She shook her head. "I'm fine."  
Adira relaxed slightly. "I rang the room's intercom first and got worried. I'm sorry to wake you, but your brother is here."

"Oh..." Leia made face at the taste in her mouth. "Give me a second to freshen up, I'll be right there."

 

* * *

 

The holonet news showed it over and over again. The security camera footage uploaded to the net was viewed four billion times within the first hour. Luke Skywalker turned on the holoprojecter in the reception room of Leia's hotel suite and watched it twice more while he waited for his sister.

First there was Leia, leaving the Planetary Regulations Committee meeting on Basilisk. She wore a gray gown, cinched at the waist by a blood red sash with the sigil of Mandalore on it. Her long black cloak had little jet stones that caught the light, glittering faintly as she moved purposefully through the crowd. Her Mandalorian guards moved with her, immaculate and intimating in silver and maroon armor, their faces hidden by their distinctive helmets. The caption on the newsfeed read "Senator Leia Organa, Mandalore System."

Then there was some movement in the crowd, a flash of light and shouting. Leia's guards closed in around her. Green smoke began to curl up from the path in front her, coming from an object that wasn't visible to the camera. The crowd in the courtyard erupted into panic.

The news reporters said it was Besilia Nerve Gas, a dangerous, even fatal toxin that descended from the agent that was used three millenia ago in an attempt to keep Mandalorian invaders from conquering Basilisk.

Almost as soon as the smoke appeared, the largest of Leia's guards snatched her up and ignited his jetpack, blasting up to a nearby rooftop terrace. The three Mandalorians left on the ground were protected from the gas by their helmets. They jumped also, but into the crowd to find the attackers.

News reports indicated that there were six found in the aftermath, members of a fledgling extremist group. Even though they wore gas masks, three were found dead. "Trampled," according the holonews. Another died of internal injuries on the way to the hospital. The other two were in critical condition.

The death toll for civilians was twenty-seven. Nineteen died from the toxin, and eight were crushed by the panicked crowd, including two young children. Over a hundred beings were admitted to the hospital for treatment, but most were expected to recover.

"Jedi." Luke turned to look at the guard who had reentered the room. He felt he should know her name, but he didn't. "The senator will be with you shortly."

"Thank you," Luke replied politely. "...Adina, isn't it?"

"Adira."

Luke had always known the names of Leia's Zeltron guards, but they were all members of the rebel alliance. These new guards were Mandalorian soldiers and mercenaries, handpicked by Fenn Shysa and Boba Fett to protect his sister.

She was on the holonet news again, this time making a statement a few hours after the attack. "To those who lost a loved one in this senseless act of violence I want to say this: I am so sorry for your loss. And I am so grateful to the brave citizens of Basilisk who ran in to help the injured and put a stop to an act of terrorism. We are working ceaselessly with the planetary authorities to find any other members of this group before they can hurt anyone else."

"...And that was Senator Leia Organa of the Mandalore system and the presumed target of yesterday's terrorist strike on the central government building. Joining us now is Governer Luur'shin-"

Two more of the guards entered the room from the outer hall. "Point eight is the absolute fastest anyone could be airborne," the big one was arguing. Luke thought he might be the same one who had carried Leia away from the gas.

"And the four seconds before that?" The other one said flatly. "Did you  _see_  the grenade land?"

"They set off a pan flash in the crowd-"

"Which should have been your first clue to look elsewhere. You were distracted."

"The hell I was, Fett. I got her to safety, didn't I?"

"Eventually."

This set off a stream of Mando'a from the big man, including a gesture that Luke had no trouble interpreting. Boba Fett ignored him. He removed his guard's helmet and nodded once to Luke. "Skywalker."

He knew that the bounty hunter occasionally stood in for one of the guards. The first time was for Leia's senate confirmation on Coruscant. It wasn't until they returned to Leia's apartment that Luke had the disquieting realization that he'd spent the entire morning within five feet of Fett without knowing it.

"You were here yesterday?" He asked, but bounty hunter shook his head.

"Got here this morning." His gaze turned to Adira. "Where is she?"

"She'll be out in a minute."

Fett handed his blaster rifle to the big guard and vanished into one of the side rooms.

"He did hire us," Adira said mildly to her fellow guard.

"But we don't work for him. I think sometimes he forgets that."

"He feels responsible. Did you find anything out there?"

"A few leads." The big man cut his eyes toward Luke and said something else in the Mandalorian tongue. This time Luke caught the word for Jedi. "You saved my sister's life," he said directly. "You have my deepest and most sincere thanks."

The guard looked vaguely uncomfortable. "Just doing my job."

Leia entered the room and Luke went immediately to her, wrapping her into a tight hug. She returned the embrace, her voice a little rough when she spoke. "You didn't have to come."

"Wild gundarks couldn't keep me away. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yes, of course. I had a full medical scan last night. My exposure was extremely minimal and I've been pumped full of antitoxins. I'm fine, really. It was nothing."

"Nothing? An assassination attempt is not 'nothing'."

"I have to agree, Senator," the big Mandalorian spoke up. "Intel says this group goes much deeper and is far more widespread than we thought."

"Then we root them up," Adira said coolly. "Like a bad crop of thistleweed. Dig 'em up, toss 'em in the fire."

Fett reemerged, this time in his own scarred armor and helmet. "I have to go."

"I know," Leia answered. "Thank you for coming."

"Kivin has all the intel from this morning, and I'll check in when I've heard back from the Kuati dataslicer." He took her hand and put a chip in her palm, folding her fingers over it. "My secure channel codes for the next month. Don't lose them."

He let go of her hand and she folded her arms over her chest, the chip tucked away in her fist. "There's going to be a big celebration in Keldabe for Remembrance Day. I have to give a speech. I know that's not your cup of tea, but Fenn thinks it would be good if you could be there. A show of support."

The bounty hunter hesitated just slightly before responding. "I'll be there."

"Thank you.  _Re_ _'_ _turcye_."

He nodded and left without another word. Luke turned his turned his attention back to Leia. The emotion was too strong for her to hide, or perhaps she'd decided not to try. "It's over," he said in realization.

"It's been over for a while now." Leia took his arm. "The hotel has a roof garden, let's take a walk." Her guards started to follow, but she put up her hand. "Wait here."

"Senator," Kivin started to protest, but Leia interrupted him.

"My brother is more than capable of protecting me."

The Mandalorians exchanged a look, but they stood down as ordered. Adira folded her arms over her chest, her scowl directed at Luke. "See that you do,  _Jedi_."

 

* * *

 

"She knows my name," Luke said in the elevator. "I know she does. Why is it always 'Jedi?'"

Leia shook her head. "It's a cultural thing. Don't take it personally." She leaned back against the wall. She shouldn't still be tired. Maybe if she asked for a sedative she could sleep without dreaming.

The lift chimed, and the doors opened into a lush tropical garden. The glass surrounding the garden was tinted so that the tourists could look out at the city, but the city couldn't look back. She led Luke down the path to a bench under an arbor of shiny leaves. "Have you ever been to Basilisk before?"

"No," he said as he sat, giving the view a cursory look. "This all looks pretty new."

"It is, compared to some of the other core worlds, where major cities are ten thousand years old or more. This one has stood for barely a thousand years. That's how long it took for the world to recover after the Mandalorian Wars. The natives sabotaged their world with poison, but the Mandalorians took it anyway. They colonized what was left and ran an entire species into near extinction." She sat down beside him. "The dominant language here is still Mando'a, although there's been more of an emphasis on Basic and Standard in recent generations."

Her hands were in her lap, her right hand still curled into a fist around the datachip. Luke stirred beside her.

"Want me to kill him for you?"

Leia didn't answer immediately, because Fett was still in her head and she could perfectly imagine his mocking reply. When she could trust herself, she tried for a rueful smile. "It was by mutual agreement. No broken heart here."

"I'm not going to pretend I'm sorry," he said.

"No, of course not."

"But if you want to talk about it, I'll listen."

"There's really nothing to say. I knew it was coming, I just thought he might-" She broke off, unable to finish it.

"Love you?"

Her eyes dropped to her hands. "Boba never does anything without a reason." She turned over her right hand and uncurled her fingers. "He didn't put this in my hand because he thought I would lose it. I think he did it so he could touch me." She closed her fingers over it again. "Love doesn't actually fix everything, Luke. In fact, it doesn't fix a single damn thing." She almost broke down then. She could feel the tears welling up her eyes, but she pushed them back with effort and swallowed the lump in her throat. "At the end of the day, we're two very driven people on two very different paths. It was doomed from the start."

Luke took her free hand. "He was just one part of your life," he said gently. "You've just started a new chapter, a new job, a new opportunity. You don't need him."

A laugh bubbled up in her throat, painful and abrupt. "But he's so  _helpful_ ," she said, forcing a lightness into her words that she didn't feel. "I could have gotten back into the Senate on my own, but it would have taken me years, possibly even decades. He came up with a plan to get me exactly what I wanted, and he did it just to please me." Her mouth twisted. "As courtship gifts go, it was pretty extravagant. And you know, you're the one who was always telling me that there was good in Darth - in our father. You could at least give Boba credit for agreeing with you."

Her brother gave her a cautious look."What exactly did he say?"

"He said he was a good client. Most of the time." Luke stared at her in silence, and she shrugged.

"Is that...a joke?"

"He was very serious. But I did laugh," she admitted, the memory bringing the shadow a real smile to her lips. "I guess it was funny, even if it wasn't a joke. It was just the way he said it." To the left of their bench, a fountain came on, and sparkling streams of water ran over polished yellow stones. Leia turned her head toward it without really seeing it. "The first time I met him, I told him a joke. I should say, I started to tell him joke. I never finished it. He would ask me to, and I would put it off. At first it was just fun, and then it became a sort of superstition." Her cheeks were burning. "I'm so stupid. I really believed that if I never told him, he would never leave."

Luke put his arm around her shoulders. He didn't try to respond, and Leia was grateful for that. After a moment she took a deep breath and sat up straight. If there was one thing she knew how to do well, it was mask her pain. "Well, that's it. No more stupid. No more scoundrels or smugglers or bounty hunters. I have a job to do, and I'm going to focus on Mandalore for a while. Speaking of which, when are you coming out to see my new house in Keldabe?"


	16. Keldabe Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Staying friends" is an awkward and tricky proposition.

**Keldabe, Mandalore**

Fenn Shysa was right where he wanted to be on Remembrance Day, standing shoulder to shoulder with his fellow Mandos, a tall glass of ale in his hand. No worries, no responsibilities, no speeches. This year the spotlight belonged to Mandalore system's new senator, and as far Fenn was concerned, she was welcome to it.

Leia stood firm on top of an old weapons crate near the central bonfire and delivered a speech that was intentionally pragmatic, but still optimistic. She said she believed in the future of Mandalore, and Fenn believed her. More importantly, it seemed that he wasn't alone.

When she finished, thousands of his people responded with a roar of approval, fists held up in salute. Fenn felt a giddiness that had nothing to do with how much he'd been drinking. For over twenty years he'd been carrying the weight of _Mand'alor_ alone, but he was not alone any longer. Relief tasted sweeter than any ale.

His attention flickered momentarily towards the edges of the crowd where Boba Fett was standing. It was a pity _all_ of his plans couldn't work out as well as Leia Organa had, but life had its own funny way sometimes.

The crowd began to break up as people returned to their drinks and their conversations and Fenn headed towards the bounty hunter, pausing to refill his cup. He knew there was no point in bringing him a drink. He hadn't bothered to remove his helmet, and Fenn doubted he'd spoken a word to anyone since his arrival. His presence was requested, so he was visible, and nothing more.

" _Su'cry gar_." Fett gave a nod in response. "Quite a speech, eh?"

"It was well done." Behind his visor he might have been looking anywhere, but Fenn would have bet good money on the direction of his gaze. Kivin Botar, one of Leia's senatorial guards, was helping her down from the crate. She was laughing at something, her face flushed and her eyes shining.

It would have been easy for her to overdress for the occasion, but Fenn thought she had the balance just right. She was wearing a simple dress made of fine pale leather with a bright blue cape that was held by blue pauldrons at her shoulders. Half of her hair was braided and wrapped around her head like a crown, the other half was divided into two long braids that hung down her back.

Someone handed her a glass of ale and she drank gratefully. "That's her fifth," Fenn said, approval in his voice. "Someone as small as her shouldn't still be standin'." He turned back to Fett. "I'm surprised to see ya here. And pleased, don't get me wrong."

That seemed to catch his attention. "Leia said it was your idea."

"Oh, it was. 'I'll ask him,' she said, and not another word. Then two days later the gossip finally catches up to me that the two of you are no longer seein' one another. I felt like a proper _shabuir_." He knew it was none of his business, but the potent combination of success and alcohol consumption had him wanting to poke the rancor a little. He took another drink of ale and shook his head sadly. "Ah well. Bound to happen, I guess. It's really good of ya to come, lots of men wouldn't have shown up for a woman that just threw them over."

Fett's helmet tilted marginally toward him. "I support her representation of Mandalore. That hasn't changed."

"That's right patriotic of ya," Fenn acknowledged, trying not sound skeptical. He let a few seconds pass before he casually dropped the detonator. "So would ya mind if I took another try at her?"

The angle of his helmet straightened, giving the impression that he was staring straight ahead. It was a minor reaction, but Fenn didn't think he was imagining the sudden chill in the air.

"It's your funeral. Didn't she give you a concussion the last time you tried to kiss her?"

Fenn laughed. "For the record, she kissed _me_. And I got a plan for that, it's called never again gettin' between her and something she wants." He took another sip of ale and rubbed his chin, affecting deep contemplation. "I never really gave thought to having kids, or a family of my own, ya know? It just wasn't ever a good time, or a good place. But now...I'm thinkin' about it."

Fenn found himself mentally willing the other man to curse at him, stalk off in anger, take a swing at him, _anything_. Fett was a statue. He straightened his shoulders and took one final jab. "If Leia takes pity on me, who knows? She could have a little Mando in her belly by the next Remembrance Day. That'd be something, wouldn't it?"

Fett's hand moved from his side to his belt, a reaction only in the broadest definition of the word. Fenn stifled a sigh of frustration. He caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd and saw an escape from this fruitless game. "Goran! What are ya doing off the farm?"

Goran was a young man, but with a generous sprinkling of gray in his hair that always seemed out of odds with his placid face. " _Mand'alor_."

"It has to have been a year since I saw ya last. Did ya collect on that Belsavis job?"

"Collected. Wasn't able to bring him in alive."

" _Koyacyi_. By the way, Goran Beviin, Boba Fett. Tell me, Goran, what did ya think of the speech?"

"Good enough," he replied carefully.

"What was wrong with it?" Fett demanded abruptly. Goran eyed him warily, but held his ground.

"Nothing. She's a fine speaker." The younger man paused and fixed his attention on Fenn. "So long as the next speech we hear isn't your resignation."

"Ya got it all wrong," Fenn insisted. "It'll be me and her, fighting for Mandalore." He caught sight of Leia moving purposely towards them. "Ya want to meet her? Come on, I'll introduce you. Fett, ya coming?"

"Give her my regards." The bounty hunter turned and walked away, and Fenn turned his attention to Leia. She put her arm through his, her voice low and confidential.

"Some of the clans from Concordia are _very_ drunk and there's a lot of shouting about the Death Watch. Could you go over there and say something to get everyone laughing again?"

"I could," Fenn agreed, taking a bracing drink. "I'll do my impersonation of a gundark. Everyone loves that."

"Please don't," she said, but she was smiling. "Anything but that."

"This is Goran, by the way. Goran, Leia."

"Senator."

"Leia," she corrected him firmly as she took his hand. "Would you go with him? If the gundark impersonation fails, we may have to resort to aggressive negotiations."

"Sure. I'd be happy to."

"Thank you," she replied gratefully. "It was nice to meet you." She hurried off, and Fenn watched her go while he finished his ale. He was only teasing Fett before, but in the flickering light of the bonfires, suddenly a wife and a family didn't seem like such a crazy idea. Mandalore became his first love and his only love at the age of eighteen, and he if was being really truthful, there had never been anyone who made him think otherwise.

Maybe he didn't love Leia. But he respected and admired her. And he sure as hell needed her. His eyes searched through the crowd and found her on the far side of the wrestling ring, talking to Boba Fett. She was animated, gesturing with her hands, but they were too far away for him to hear what was being said. Leia turned, making her way through the crowd toward the edge of the woods. After a moment, the bounty hunter followed her.

" _Mand'alor_?" Goran said, waiting on him.

"Right," Fenn replied, snapping out of his reverie. "Time to do some politics."

* * *

"A group of us is lobbying the Intergalactic Consortium of Species Rights for an expanded definition of sentient species," Leia explained as they walked away from the noisy celebrants at the bonfires. "As part of our presentation we'll be giving examples of known violations. Wookiee hunting would be one example, Ewok fights would be another. Unlike the Wookiee hunts, there are no recordings of the Ewok matches. Someone told me that about two years ago a reporter bluffed an invite and smuggled a holorecorder in. He was never seen or heard from again."

She paused at the edge of the woods. It was quieter here, but there was a restless hum in her blood, as if she could pick a direction and just keep walking until the sun rose. She plunged forward into the shadows of tall fir trees, and Fett followed without a word. "I thought perhaps with your extensive knowledge of scum and villainy, you might be able to help me find out what really goes on at these matches."

"It's not that complicated. Two Ewoks fight in a pit. One dies."

"I want to see it for myself," she said, pushing a tree branch aside. "Can you help me?"

He didn't answer, but he didn't stop following her either. She kept walking, fallen leaves crunching under her boots. "I know someone," Fett said finally. "A former client. He might be able to get us in."

Leia didn't stop, but she slowed down enough to turn back towards him. "Us?"

"I have two conditions. The first is that I go with you." When she gave him a questioning look, he offered a terse explanation. "It's like Jabba's palace, with a less stable power structure. Anyone can be a winner, and then a loser, and eventually pitiful form of entertainment. It wouldn't be smart to go alone."

"What's the second condition?"

"We're only there to watch. No interference."

"Strictly observation," she agreed, hesitating a little before adding "I could take Kivin or Adira. You wouldn't have to come."

"Two conditions," he reminded her flatly. "What were they?"

She rolled her eyes as she turned her attention back her path. The ground under her feet was getting steep, slanting up toward the mountains. "Fine. Have it your way. What does one wear to an illegal Ewok death match?"

He seemed to give that some thought. "Dress up, but not well. Be some thug's shiny new mistress."

"I take it you'll be 'some thug?' That should be interesting." She paused to catch her breath, leaning back against the broad trunk of a tree. When she tilted her head up, she could see patches of bright starry sky between the tree tops. "What a beautiful night." The cool night air smelled of tree sap, damp leaves and just a hint of smoke that reminded her of where she was supposed to be right now.

"We should go back," she said with some reluctance. "I just needed to walk for a little. I always have too much energy after giving a speech."

"I know. Keep walking if you want. I'll watch your back."

Her lips curved into a smile. "You just don't want to go back to the party." He shrugged. "Can I ask you something, Fett?" He didn't say no, which was generally as good as a yes. "Does this feel...strange to you?"

More silence, then a slow and measured response. "No. Why?"

"We still talk. We still see one another. You still help me. I know we agreed to be friends, but it just seems…" She made an empty gesture, struggling to find the right words. "Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you're always this accommodating to your friends. Or your ex-girlfriends."

"I don't have much experience with either."

Leia looked down at the toes of her boots briefly. "I'm not complaining. I like seeing you. It's just hard sometimes because it feels too much like we're still together." Her hands curled reflexively into fists at her side. "The only difference is that when I want to touch you...I can't."

He turned his head towards her, the moonlight glinting off the narrow visor. Two swift steps and he was there, his gloved hands cupping her face and the cool, hard curve of his helmet resting against her forehead. Tears stung her eyes unexpectedly, but she blinked them away.

"We can't do this," he said, a statement of fact with just the smallest edge of uncertainty in it. Leia put her hands over his, feeling the tension in them. She knew this was a bad idea, just as surely as she knew that this was exactly what she wanted.

"Yes we can," she whispered. She moved her hands to either side of his helmet, just below the visor and spread her fingers, feeling cold metal but seeing the man beneath it. "Just this once. I think everyone is allowed that, as long as it really is just this once, and afterwards we agree that it was a mistake and will never happen again."

He shifted closer, his fingers brushing carefully over her cheeks. "We could go somewhere more comfortable."

"No. Right here." Her thumbs came together in the center of the visor, where his mouth would be. Her voice rose to a desperate, fevered pitch. "If we're going to do this, we do it here and now and never again. Take me, fuck me, make love to me, but do it _now_."

No one could ever say that he didn't listen to her. His hands moved over her body, rough and urgent. Leia let her head fall back against the tree trunk, her lower lip caught between her teeth. The jagged bark was digging into her back but she didn't care.

He got his hand under her skirt. Even through his gloves and her underwear, his touch felt white hot between her legs. She muffled her moan but did nothing to stop the roll of her hips. "More," she gasped. " _More_. I want you-"

"Shysa wants to marry you," he ground out, forcing his hand down between them to remove her underwear.

"What?" It made no sense to her, but she could hear the anger in his voice and it filled her with a savage sense of satisfaction. No sooner had he removed his groin armor than she was tugging at the snaps on his pants, feeling the evidence of his arousal pushing at her fingers. He brushed her hands aside and lifted her up, bracing her back against the broad trunk of the tree. She automatically wrapped her legs around his waist, trusting that he wouldn't let her fall. "I'm sure that didn't bother you _at all_."

"I could have fucking killed him," he growled, and the heat became a ravenous flame as he entered her. It hurt a little, but she wanted to it to hurt. She wanted that little bit of soreness, a reminder of this when she woke up alone.

There were so many times when they came together exactly like this, usually after a week or two of unreconcilable schedules. Her back knew the smooth plaster wall in the hallway of her apartment on Coruscant. It also knew the cold metal walls of _Slave I_. And it was intimately familiar with a number of shower stalls.

But eventually she was forced to admit that the tree bark might have the better of her. Every thrust pushed her back against the ridged surface. She squirmed, trying to get away from it, but Fett seemed to take her movement as encouragement. He drove into her even harder, sending waves of pleasure through her core but rubbing her back nearly raw. Her nails scraped against hard duraplast as she clung to him. "Boba," she gasped. "This tree-"

Just like that she was on the ground. The leaves had a slightly musky smell, but they were much softer.

"Better?" There was an uncharacteristic roughness in his voice.

"Oh gods, yes." She wrapped her legs around him again and her hands returned to his helmet. She missed his face, all of the strong, grim lines that she had memorized. Those rare, fleeting smiles that made him look so unbearably pleased with himself, or rarer still, a split second of child-like confusion over something he didn't understand. The way he looked at her, as if she was the most interesting and important person in the galaxy.

Her throat tightened, and she was grateful that he'd kept his helmet on. It was easier this way, but just barely. In some ways it was just as much his face as the assembly of skin, hair, eyes and features that lay beneath it.

His rhythm became rough and uneven as he reached his peak. Leia shut her eyes, concentrating on the final thrust, the delicious tightness within her and the strangled groan that escaped him. She kept her eyes shut, trying to hold onto that feeling as he pulled out and shifted his weight to one side. Her hips jerked up from the bed of leaves when she felt his bare fingers between her legs.

He buried his fingers inside of her, making them slick before he slid them up to _that_ spot. Leia half-gasped, half-moaned, her hips rocking as he stroked up and down. The fire returned, hotter and brighter with every touch. She came with a harsh, unintelligible cry, and then all was still.

Fett lay heavy against her side, she couldn't hear it, but she could tell by the rise and fall of his shoulders that he was still breathing hard. High in the trees, one bird called to another, Leia thought they sounded disapproving.

"Say it," she demanded, still a little breathless herself.

A pause, then "this was a mistake."

"And it will never happen again."

"Agreed."

"Good. So, the Ewok fight. You'll let me know when you've found a way in?"

"I will."

"But there will definitely not be any sex happening."

"No."

"Good," she said again, and took a deep breath. "Could you get off my leg? Your armor isn't exactly designed for cuddling."


	17. Malastare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What could possibly go wrong at an illegal Ewok fight?

"I'm going to be sick." Leia said it with a smile on her face, as she lifted a lurid green cocktail to her lips. Over her shoulder, an Ewok with striped fur ripped the throat out of his gray opponent. Blood and viscera sprayed out into the sand of the pit as the audience cheered and groaned.

Fett looked down at her face speculatively. She didn't look pale, but she had so much makeup on it was hard to tell. "Are you?"

"No. But I feel sick. This is-" A red-faced human male elbowed in beside them, rubbing his hands together.

"Five thousand! That's how much that fool Horvo'nok bet me. Put your money on Stripey, my friends, you won't be sorry! One thousand to start?"

"I don't gamble."

"Your pretty lady then?" The man leaned forward, his nose only inches from the plunging neckline of Leia's gown. Fett put a possessive arm around her waist from behind. "You want some money, Baby?"

She lifted one arm to return his embrace, her nails raked lightly over the back of his neck. "You're so sweet," she purred. "Maybe later. I want to watch a few more matches."

The huckster went off in pursuit of other prey, and Fett stepped away from Leia immediately. "You did ask to see it."

"That doesn't mean I can't be horrified by it," she retorted. "Thanks, by the way, for getting me in."  
To the left, a Gran shoved a Rodian and knocked him over the railing into the pit. The Rodian scrambled for the rail, his boots scraping frantically against the pit wall. On the other side of the pit, the striped Ewok looked up from his kill and sniffed the air. "I said I would."

"Yes, but after what happened-" She turned to see what he was looking at, and her hand tightened around her glass. "Oh gods. He won't..."

"Ewoks are carnivores, and they're not picky eaters. Especially when they're hungry."

The Rodian managed to grab the lower rail, his pleas for help ignored by the audience above. They were too busy watching the Ewok, who was ambling toward the Rodian. Some of the hucksters began to shout out odds and take bets. Leia turned her back on the pit, her eyes closing briefly. "Is he going to make it?"

"It's possible."

"I have to do something."

Fett gave her a sharp look. "That would be a direct violation of my second condition."

"How can I testify before the Intergalactic Consortium of Species Rights when I stood by and watched a sentient mauled to death?" She pushed her drink at him. "Here, hold this."

Instead he knocked it out of her hand, the neon liquid spiraling out as it fell into the pit. The Ewok stopped and cocked his head, his shiny black eyes fixed on the glass sparkling in the sand. Fett roughly grabbed Leia's arm. "No more drinks for you," he growled. "I don't feel like carrying you home again."

"I'd be happy to carry her home," a man slurred, but retreated immediately under Fett's glare.

Leia's shock quickly became a pout. "I'm just trying to have a little fun," she whined."Gods, you're such a control freak."

The Rodian finally made it up the rail and collapsed on the other side, gasping and panting. The spectators at the rail who'd been betting on his death a few seconds before completely ignored him. Fett turned back to Leia, who was looking up at him with bemused appreciation. If they were still together, they would going back to his ship after this, or to Leia's hotel room. He could hear her laugh, feel the stiff fabric of her gown beneath his fingers. Their eyes met, and then she quickly looked away. It wasn't going to happen. Because they were not still together and Leia had made it perfectly clear that what happened on Mandalore was not going to happen again. To feel any sense of regret over that fact was pointless.

The dead Ewok was being dragged out of the ring now. The pit guards kept the striped Ewok at bay with vibro-spears until a new contestant could be brought in. "Have you seen enough?" He asked Leia, and after a moment she nodded.

There was a rumble that seemed to grow from the ground below them, something he first took for an earthquake. But this part of Malastare wasn't prone to earthquakes. All conversation ceased, with beings turning and looking around uneasily, as if the answer was somewhere on the floor. Fett kept his eyes on Mal'goda, the Gran crimelord who was in charge of security for this event. Mal'goda consulted his comlink, then made a motion. His guards were large Gamorreans, well-armed with high powered blaster rifles. They took their places on either side of the exit.

Leia noticed immediately. "What's happening?"

"They don't want a crowd running out into the street. It would draw too much attention."

Her hand found his, her grip tight. "That felt like an explosion," she said quietly.

"I know."

The rumbling started again, and Mal'goda started towards the door, waving his hands at the crowd and assuring them it was a minor problem. He would deal with it, he said, but it was obvious no one believed him. Fett swallowed a curse as the first spectator panicked and rushed to toward the stairs. The guards cut him down immediately and all hell broke loose. The subterranean room turned to suffocating chaos as the guards fired randomly into the crowd. He pushed Leia down, and she pulled frantically at his arm. She had a hair ornament in her hand, it had two long wavy prongs with points. He gave her a quick, approving look and palmed it, crawling through the crush toward the nearest guard.

He stuck the guard right in the soft joint behind his knee and managed to get his gun away from him. He grabbed Leia's hand again but they only made it up the first five stairs to the landing before the walls began to crack. Fett pushed Leia down to the floor and covered her body with his own. Of all the _kriffing_ times to not have his armor on.

If she died, it would be his fault. His fault for failing to protect her, his fault for bringing her here in first place, his fault for his own stubborn, selfish denial. His fault for loving her and being unable to let her go.

Her eyes were fixed over his shoulder, her mouth open and her eyes wide with horror. He heard the bricks, even over the other noises, falling like a cascade of water. Leia shut her eyes, and everything went black.

He did regain consciousness once. He was sure he did. Everything was covered in gray dust. Her body shook beneath him with big, racking coughs and there was blood on her face and neck. He couldn't move, but he tried to talk to her. He didn't know if he succeeded, but he was sure he tried.

Some time later he woke up in the Emergency Receiving Unit of a hospital, in so much pain that the knowledge that he had survived was hardly any consolation at all. Leia was standing by the stretcher, her hair and clothing caked with blood and dust. She looked down at him, and he saw the raw relief in her eyes. "You're alive," she said, her voice rough from dust inhalation.

It seemed to him that he shouldn't be, but there would be time to think about that later. "You okay?"

"Just cuts and bruises," she touched her neck, stained rust-red. "This is your blood."

There was something else, something hovering dizzily around the edges of his memory. He had said something to her before he lost consciousness the second time, he was sure of it. "Did I...ask you to marry me?"

"Not exactly." She was holding his right hand, which he could barely feel, much less move. "Don't try to talk. Rest." All around her, droids and medical personnel were rushing around other dust-covered bodies, checking vitals, calling out orders.

"I'll remember eventually."

Leia frowned at him. "You said 'I should have married you. This is a fucking stupid way to die.'" She was trying not to let it show, but he could see it in her eyes. He might still die. The pain was so great, he couldn't tell where it hurt the worst, or where his injuries might be. Ribs, certainly, that would account for the difficulty breathing. His head had a rough dressing on it, some of the gauze was obstructing his left eye. He couldn't raise his head enough to look at his body, and when he tried to move his feet he couldn't tell if they complied.

Leia grabbed the arm of a passing orderly. "He was supposed to be taken to diagnostics for a full scan an hour ago."

"We're swamped," the orderly replied automatically. "We're doing the best we can."

"Can't you at least give him something for the pain?"

"Not if he's getting scanned. They'll probably put him under." The orderly glanced down quickly. "To set his leg. I'm sorry ma'am, there's nothing I can do. They'll see your husband as soon as they can."

"He's not my - this is ridiculous," Leia hissed as the orderly strode away. "I should start flashing my Senate ID."

"That would make for some interesting headlines." Bile rose up in his throat, but he pushed it back. Focus was his only respite from the pain. "Don't. Not yet."

Her fingers tightened on his hand, and to his relief, he saw his own fingers curl in response. Not paralyzed then, at least not completely. His left hand was much less responsive, and trying to move it only made it hurt. A tremor ran through his body, a reaction to the pain, or the first signs of shock. Fett forced himself to push past the fog in his head, to think ahead. As bad as his current state was, he liked the idea of being put to sleep even less. There were too many things that he couldn't control if he were unconscious.

He squeezed Leia's hand again. "I need a favor."

"What is it?" She leaned closer.

"Find a hospital chaplain."

Her expression turned from concerned to disbelieving. "What?"

"Do it now." He gave her fingers a push with his, as much of a gesture as he could manage. "Please."

She gave him a hard look, but she left his side, crossing the crowded room to the triage desk. The staff were all busy elsewhere. After a quick look around, she pushed a button on the station communicator. "This is ERU Triage. We need a chaplain to emergency section four, bed eighty-six. At once, please." She released the button, cool as could be, and returned to him. "There. Now what is this all about?"

"I need another favor." He tried to sum it up in as few words as possible. Talking, much like breathing, was difficult at best. "If it gets bad enough, they'll do a genetic scan. To find next of kin."

"So what? They still won't know who you are. What can they do to you?"

He grimaced. "Whatever they want. If I'm lucky, I become a sideshow exhibit. If I'm unlucky, they send me to a military hospital with guards and scientists with needles."

Leia looked down at him, her gaze steady and her words slow and deliberate. "I would never let that happen."

"You can't use your influence here. Not without some really interesting headlines."

"Boba. I. Don't. Care."

"It's easier this way. If you're my next of kin and my legal proxy, there's no reason for them to look further. And if I die-"

"Don't say that," she choked out. "You're not going to die."

He made the mistake of trying to shrug, and a fresh wave of pain rolled over him. "Someone should get my money."

"What money?" She scoffed, but there was a rough edge in her voice. There was movement on the other side of the partition and her expression quickly shuttered. A Twi'lek priestess appeared at the foot of the stretcher, one of the fattest Twi'leks Fett had ever seen. The priestess didn't flinch when she saw him, she was clearly accustomed to bloody clientele. "What is your religion?" she asked politely.

"Doesn't matter. Marry us," he said, grasping Leia's hand clumsily. "No names, just leave the paperwork." He had just enough control of his fingers to slide them into the pocket behind his belt and produce a very high value credit chit.

"I couldn't possibly." But the priestess was coming closer, taking the chit from his hand and inspecting it. When she was satisfied that it was genuine, it vanished into her robes. Then she took out a data imprinter and looked at Leia doubtfully. "Do you consent to marry this man, whose name you presumably know?"

"Yes," she replied grimly. "I know his name, and I'll marry him."

The twi'lek turned to him next. "And do you consent to marry this woman, whose name you presumably know?"

"Yes."

"So it is said, so let it be done, from now until eternity." The chaplain's voice carried absolutely no conviction that this would be the case, but she hit a button and ejected a data chip. "If you still feel like being married tomorrow, fill in the names and file this with the authorities on your home planet." She bowed as she backed away. "May the gods favor you with many children."

There was a flurry of movement on the other side of the partition, and a Mon Calamari doctor materialized at his feet with a med droid close behind. He scanned the admission tag on the gurney "All right, Mr. Felsen. Let's get you to the body scan unit."

"I'm coming too," Leia announced, and he gave her quick look.

"And you are?"

"His wife."

"Right," the doctor replied hurriedly. "Come along then."

He lost seven days in a bacta tank before he heard the full list of his injuries. Aside from the relatively minor ones such as broken ribs and several contusions, he had suffered a head injury, a fractured wrist, and a leg that was so shattered they had to replace sections of the bone. It would have to be immobilized in a plasticine cast for weeks to allow the old bone to graft with the new.

Leia was there when he woke up. She told him he would be discharged in four days as long as he remained stable. She knew he would want to return to work as soon as possible, so to force him to rest she was taking him to a place one of her colleagues in the Senate told her about. A secluded resort that catered to the rich and privacy-impaired.

"For how long?"

"Ten days. You should be able to put some weight on your leg by then."

"You don't have to do this."

"You saved my life. This seemed like the least I could do."

In his mind he saw the wall crumbling towards them. It should have killed them both. Should have, but didn't.

"You married me," he pointed out. "So we're even. You can file for an annulment now. Unless you want half?"

"Half of what?" She said dryly. "A rust-bucket ship and a large cache of deadly weapons?"

"I have money. I'm just very careful with it."

"That's good, because you're going to have some very large medical bills." She stood up and went to the room intercom. "Are you hungry? The food here is completely tasteless. You'll love it."

Before she could push the button, the door opened and Leia's face lit up. "Luke!" She gave her brother a quick hug. "I didn't expect you to actually come. Didn't you get my second message?"

"Yes." He took her gently by the arms, his expression earnest. "Before you say anything, I looked into it, and you can file for a no-fault annulment."

"Thank you," she replied stiffly. "I'm aware of that. Now please drop it."

The Jedi backed off reluctantly and approached the hospital bed, taking note of the bandages and the cast. "So what exactly happened?"

"Sixteen inch fiberod explosives spaced approximately ten feet apart around the foundation, probably. Could have been an impact detonation too, but that wouldn't normally bring an entire building down like that."

Leia was shaking her head furiously and made a silencing motion with her hand, but she stopped when Skywalker turned back around to face her. "Are you kidding me? Someone bombed the building you were in and somehow that didn't make it into your message? Do you know who was behind it?"

She spread her hands. "I've been watching the news. They think it was mob-related but they aren't giving details."

"Probably half the sentients in that basement had enemies with access to explosives," Fett offered.

"Basement?"

"Of a brothel," Leia tried to explain. "We were at illegal Ewok fight."

Skywalker's icy gaze came back to rest on him. "She asked to go," Fett said, uncomfortable with the urge to defend himself.

"I did," Leia confirmed. "For research. Which was going quite well until the explosion."

Her brother exhaled and shook his head. "You could have died."

"I know. Believe me, when I saw that wall coming towards us..." her voice trailed off. "It's all a blur now, but I think it broke. Sort of split down the middle."

"Did you see it break?" Skywalker asked, suddenly very alert. "Did you feel anything different?"

Leia took a step back. "Luke..."

"Did you push the wall? With your mind?"

She jerked her chin towards his hospital bed, her arms folded tightly over her chest. "Well if I did, I've got lousy aim. But I didn't, so _drop it_."

Skywalker glanced over at him, and an uncomfortable understanding passed between Boba Fett and his new brother-in-law. They both knew she was lying.

Four excruciatingly slow days later, he was discharged and relocated from the hospital to a luxurious vacation spot. They called it a retreat, but it was in fact one quadrant of a small moon. The house itself had over thirty rooms, most of which Fett never bothered to visit. There were four "suites" on the main floor, all with some exotic theme. The room they slept in was called "The Cave." The head of the bed was a synthetic stone wall with little streams of water running constantly over the stones. The adjacent 'fresher was styled as a hot springs, complete with artificial and climate-controlled steam.

It was an uncomfortable and alien environment for him, but he would never be truly comfortable until he was healed. The first two days, it was all he could do to get out of bed. By the third day, he could slowly and painfully limp down the hall into a room that Leia called the solarium. The solarium opened into a garden with a terrace on the opposite end that looked out onto a crystal-clear blue sea. Leia walked down to the private beach every day to sunbathe and swim. He stubbornly refused to use a hoverchair, so he stayed at the house.

It was now the eighth day. Two more days, and they would leave this artificial world. He was stronger now, there was no doubt about it. He limped out to the terrace and watched flightdivers swooping over the lake, hunting for fish. After an hour or so he made the slow journey back to the house. The sun was hot, and he was sweating by the time he reached the patio.

Outside the solarium there was an outdoor shower, intended for washing off sand and salt water. It was wide enough that he could maneuver inside, using the decorative carvings as handholds. He'd worked out how to remove his clothing with one hand, and he could wash himself, after a fashion. Mostly he just enjoyed the hot spray, even when his leg was throbbing and his sides ached with every breath.

Leia had offered to help him shower, of course. Under better circumstances he might have enjoyed that. Under these circumstances he found he couldn't enjoy much of anything.

He dried off by sitting on a bench in the sun, resting before his journey back to the house. Maybe he could dress himself today. His left wrist was beginning to regain some functionality, but he was strongly cautioned against taking it out of the sling for more than a few minutes at a time.

Two more days. He thought he could get around his ship without too much trouble, but the ladder to the cockpit would be a problem. He could rig up some kind of motorized pulley, he decided. It would be slow, but workable. It still would be some time before he could actually return to work, but at least he would be home.

He came to a halt in the hallway when he heard Leia's voice. She was talking to someone. He pushed off of a tall column and made a clumsy right turn. The quickest route to their bedroom was through a large central room decorated with exotic hunting trophies. But it was also the room that Leia was in.

She was sitting perched on the edge of a low chaise lounge, her hands folded in her lap. She was wearing what looked like a white gown, but Fett had seen her take it off and knew that it was actually a robe or sorts. A gauzy white sash threaded through a series of gold rings on the front and held it shut. Leia called it a "dressing gown." It baffled him that she seemed to own complete outfits for doing nothing.

A few feet away, a holocommunicator sat on a footstool. Fett recognized the woman she was talking to as Chancellor Mon Mothma. "I'll be taking an additional two weeks of leave," Leia was saying. "I've sent messages to all of the committees, and Senator Gu'roy has my notes for the fiscal meeting."

She gave no indication that she knew he was there, but of course she wouldn't. She was obviously trying to take a work call, and he was intruding. Until that moment, he hadn't stopped to consider the effect that his convalescence was having on her schedule. Not only was he a nuisance, but an ungrateful nuisance at that. From now on, he decided, he would make an effort to be more considerate. He could begin by staying out of her way. He took an awkward step back, grasping at the door frame for balance. His leg protested, but he ignored it. He would go back to the solarium so he wouldn't disturb her.

"Very well," Mothma replied crisply. There was a pause. "Is everything all right, Leia?"

"Everything is fine," she replied, then added in the same matter-of-fact tone. "I got married."

There was another, longer pause. Fett was too far away to see the expression on Mothma's face. "Oh my...Congratulations, of course, it's just such a surprise. I had no idea you were even seeing anyone. Is it anyone I know?"

Leia shook her head. "One of my Mandalorian constituents. I've been spending so much time out there...it just sort of happened."

"Well...I look forward to meeting him when you return."

"I don't think he'll be coming with me." She looked down at her hands and then leaned forward as if telling a secret. "Between you and me, he's a little wary of the political scene. I thought maybe you could help me spread the word around...discreetly, so it doesn't attract a lot of curiosity or gods forbid, look like I'm hiding something."

"I see," Mothma replied thoughtfully. "Well, if a press release is out of the question, we could try something more subtle. I could send an internal communication around before you return, something to the effect of 'let's all remember to congratulate Senator Organa or her recent marriage!' Everyone will assume they missed some prior announcement. You should expect a lot of gift baskets with vaguely worded cards."

"Thank you. I knew I could count on you."

"There will be questions, of course, but maybe we can buy your new husband a little time to warm up to the idea of being a politician's spouse." Leia smiled enigmatically, but said nothing. After a moment Mothma continued, a note of hesitation in her voice. "There have always been expectations about who you would marry, because if your royal birth and standing. Your relationship with Captain Solo was initially quite a shock, but his heroism on behalf of the Alliance helped justify it in the eyes of the old guard. I don't suppose your new husband did anything heroic during the war? Perhaps he was involved in the Mandalorian resistance?"

"I think," Leia said, with perfect calmness, "it would best not to mention the war if we can help it. He's a bounty hunter by trade, and he took contracts for the Empire."

Mothma took a few moments to process that. "How fascinating," she said in a tone of voice that seemed to politely question Leia's sanity. "I really do hope to meet him someday. He must be an extraordinary man."

She smiled and inclined her head. "I feel perfectly confident in saying that there's no one else like him in all of the galaxy."

"Enjoy your honeymoon, my dear. I'll send you a draft of the communication next week."

"Thank you again. End transmission."

Mothma's image vanished, and Leia finally turned her head to look at him. "Why are you lurching around the hallway naked?"

"Shortest route to my clothes." His good leg ached from standing on it so long. He shifted, wincing a little as he moved forward. She was on her feet immediately.

"I'll get them. You should sit down." He wanted to argue, but he was tired. A short rest, and then he could finish his journey to the bedroom. She put her shoulder under his good arm and turned him easily towards the chaise lounge. At first glance the chair seemed to be made out of bone, but in the reality it was one very large antler, turned upside down, with the filed-down points serving as legs. It was also too low. If he sat on that he would never be able to get up. "I'll sit in the armchair."

"You need to put your leg up. Sit."

They both knew she could make him. The antler chair was padded with thick leather cushions and reasonably comfortable. "You think that's going to help?" Fett muttered with a nod toward the holocommunicator.

"It can't hurt." She took an extra pillow from the armchair and propped it under his cast.

"Can I have my clothes now?"

"Maybe." She leaned over and kissed him, her lips warm and soft against his. He reached up with his good arm and cupped the back of her head. Her tongue curled into his mouth and she moved, finding a more comfortable position on the bone seat. Eventually she broke off the kiss, her forehead pressed against his. His hand tightened on the back of her neck.

"Clothes," he reminded her.

"Not just yet." She ducked her head, the very tip of her tongue tracing the line of his collarbone. It tickled, and he shrugged away, putting his hand on her shoulder and pushing her back. "I want my clothing." She sat up with a sigh that he took for acquiescence and unhooked the front of her robe, pulling the white sash free from the rings. She caught his good arm and pulled it straight toward her, his hand palm up in her lap.

"What are you doing?"

"Hold still." She wrapped the sash twice around his wrist and the realization hit him a second too late. He jerked his arm back, but she already had the ends of the sash around one of the legs. She pulled and leverage forced his arm down. She was too smart to tie it any place he could reach.

"What is this?" He growled as she straightened. "Untie me. Now."

Leia tilted her head to one side and looked down at him. A smile played around the corners of her mouth, but Fett didn't share her amusement. He pulled hard on the sash, but the soft fabric was stronger than it looked. It pulled tight around his wrist but didn't give. "I wouldn't struggle too much," she advised. "It would be shame to have to go back to the hospital."

She was right. He could probably get free, but not without the strong possibility of injuring himself. He deliberately relaxed his hand, flexing his fingers a few times and then letting it rest passively on the edge of the chair.

"Good boy," Leia said approvingly. He glowered at her in response, but she ignored him. Her eyes drifted down, her expression thoughtful. Anger and discomfort prickled over his skin. Surely she'd had her fill of seeing his battered body by now.

She parted her robe and let it drop from her shoulders, revealing a strapless white shift that stretched tight over her breasts. She sat down again on the edge of the chair and leaned over, silk and skin brushing against his chest. She ran her hand over the stubble of his shaved head, her fingers carefully skirting the edges of the tender red scar that sliced through his hairline. "I'm glad your hair is growing back," she said. "This is not a good look for you."

"You had to tie me to a fucking chair to tell me that?"

Her mouth quirked up and her fingers trailed down the side of his face. "You pout when you're angry. Has anyone ever told you that?" She didn't try to kiss him this time. She bit his lower lip, hard enough to hurt, but not hard enough to draw blood.

Her hand slid down his arm, her fingers tracing around the sash around his wrist. He couldn't tell if she was checking to see if it was too tight or too loose. "How many times," she said, "have I let you hold me down, or tie me up, or cuff me..." Her mouth dropped down to his chest, her teeth scraping over a nipple.

"The key word is 'let,'" he said through his teeth. "You _let_ me do those things because you enjoy them."

"What makes you think you won't enjoy this?" She laid her hand on his thigh and every muscle in his body tightened in response. She glanced deliberately down, and moved her hand two inches higher. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to shift towards her. "Trust me," she requested softly, moving to kneel between his legs. She dropped small, wet kisses down his sternum, careful to avoid the colorful bruises on his ribs as she moved lower.

His fingers grasped the part of the sash that was pulled tight under the chair. If the antler wasn't polished underneath, he might be able to wear down the fabric through friction. She bit him again, this time on his stomach and a curse hissed out between his teeth.

"Trust me," she said again, less a request and more a command. She slid a little lower, soft silk and warm flesh pressed against his groin, and his mind split in two. He wanted to be angry and unmoved, but he also wanted to give in and grind shamelessly against her chest. Of the two options, his cock had decided unequivocally for submission. Leia gave a pleased "hmm" and pulled her shift down to her waist, settling his half-hard cock into the smooth valley between her breasts.

She was careful not to lean on his bad leg as she brought her hands up, curling them around the sides of her breasts and squeezing around his shaft. She looked up at him with mischief shining in her eyes. His fingers were going numb because he kept pulling uselessly on the sash and making it tighter. He could take his left arm out of the sling. It might be worth re-fracturing his wrist if he could touch her.

She rose to her knees, and his anger returned. Was she going to walk away and leave him like this? "You look so...defiant," she said with a soft laugh. "I find it strangely attractive." She slowly straddled his hips, careful not to rest her full weight on him. Her hand wrapped loosely around his cock. "Don't worry," she purred, her fingers stroking up and down with maddening slowness. "I'm going to take care of you. Are you enjoying it yet?"

His jaw was clenched so hard it felt like his teeth would crack.

"That wasn't a rhetorical question," she said sternly, holding him tight between her thighs. "Are you enjoying this?"

Leia squirmed against him, the movement both a tantalizing promise and an infuriating tease. All he had to do to be inside of her was to wrap his hands around her thighs and pull her forward about two inches. Which of course, he couldn't do. Her hips rolled provocatively again, and something between a growl and groan escaped him.

"Try harder, Boba. Yes or no, that's all I want."

He was so focused on the exact positioning of the lower half of his body, the muscles in his legs and lower back were starting to cramp. " _Say it_ ," she whispered, bending down to kiss the place where his pulse throbbed in his neck. He hated the fact that his hands were shaking. "Just say it," she moaned, grinding harder against him. "One word and you're inside of me. You want to be inside me, don't you?"

"... _Yes_."

She exhaled, drawing herself up and forward just enough to take him in. "There. Was that really so hard?" she asked, her sarcasm softened slightly by her breathless state. She kissed him then, really kissed him, and everything in the galaxy revolved around her mouth and her hands the tortuously slow movement of her hips. Her thighs were trembling with the effort of not resting her weight on him. "I'm not hurting your leg am I?"

He shook his head swiftly in denial. He couldn't actually feel his leg at the moment, but the only thing that felt really important was that she didn't stop.

"Are you sure? If it starts to hurt, tell me."

"I will. Just don't-"

"I know. I know." Her hand slid down to the place where they joined, touching herself as she rode him.

"I could do that," he rasped.

"Ha. Nice try." Her eyes fell shut. "My gods," she moaned, and her rhythm became harder and more insistent. Her heat was the sun, blotting out everything else, and from the moment she tightened all around him he was gone. There was no pain in his world. No anger, no discomfort, no frustration.

He returned to reality with Leia still on top of him, her sweat-damp body molded to his. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this relaxed and at peace.

"Thank you," he said, but the words seemed inadequate, under the circumstances. She gave him one last sweet kiss and slid off to his side, her fingers slow and clumsy as she untied the sash. Then she laid her head back on his shoulder, brought his good arm around her and massaged the feeling back into his hand. "I didn't damage anything, did I?"

He shook his head lazily, and she looked relieved. "Good," she said, her gentle hands still kneading his palm. "I knew it was a risk, but it just seemed a shame to let the honeymoon end without consummating the marriage."

He pulled his head back a little to allow eye contact. "You're really serious about this."

"I had a lot of time to think while you were floating in bacta." She turned and hugged his side, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. "You lost so much blood, they had a med droid with electrodes standing by on twenty-four hour watch in case your heart stopped. It took three surgeries and two different surgeons to fix your leg. When you went into the bacta, they told me there was a twenty percent chance that you would fall into a coma and never wake up. I think I must be a very selfish person. The whole time, I couldn't stop thinking how unbelievably unfair it would be for me to lose one more person that I love." She lifted her head and looked up at him. "So I decided that if it was up to me, I wouldn't."

After a moment, she continued. "I don't know exactly how it's going to work. It won't be easy, and it will never be normal and it might blow up in our faces, but at least we'll know for sure."

He knew one thing for sure. He didn't want to lose her. It was a realization that became painfully clear to him while he was trying to save her from a collapsing building, and it was no less true now.

There were any number of reasons why it would probably end badly. She irritated him more than any sentient in the galaxy. She was a renowned political figure, and would always be somewhat in the public eye. And last but certainly not least, she was Darth Vader's daughter, and if there were ever any doubts that she had inherited her father's abilities, those doubts were now null and void. The fact that she'd used those abilities to save his life was only a minor consolation.

On the other hand, she was smart, passionate about justice, beautiful and against all reason she _loved_ him. Maybe he was stupid to stay and take his chances, but to leave her would simply be a different kind of stupid. There was no going back now, no slowing down, no means of avoidance. Whether it ended today or some undefinable date in the future, his pain would the same.

"Boba," she said, and he realized she was waiting for him to say something.

"We won't be able to stay friends after this."

Her mouth curled up into a smile. "That's a 'yes,' isn't it?"

"Yes." His hand spread over her bare back, feeling the the rapid beat of her heart between her shoulders.

"Then that's a chance I'm willing to take."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Though is may feel like it, this is not actually the end. Two more chapters and an epilogue coming. Thanks once again to everyone who takes the time to leave a review. I'm always interested to hear what you think!


	18. Mandalore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It could never be a simple life, or an easy one.

"The device you are trying to reach has been disconnected."

For a few minutes, Boba Fett stood Leia's empty house and went over the possible reasons for her to disable her comlink. When they'd spoken a few days ago, he'd told her when he was scheduled to dock at Keldabe and she had definitely said she would be there. It was possible that she'd had something come up, or that she was out of milk or _something_ , but the dead signal didn't fit. She could have turned off the comlink if she didn't want to be disturbed. The only reason to disconnect it would be to prevent someone from tracking her signal location.

He went to the house holocommunicator and checked the records. No outgoing or incoming calls in the past four hours. The last call before the dead time was to Fenn Shysa. Unlike her apartment in Coruscant, this place had no internal security recordings, so he searched the rooms for clues.

In her bedroom, the bed was unmade and the 'fresher light was still on. That was not unusual. Fett opened her closet, but quickly abandoned any pretense of being able to identify what was missing. Leia owned more clothing than he'd ever seen in his life, and this was only a fraction of what she kept on Coruscant. He had just closed the closet doors when he heard the front door open. The footsteps were too heavy to be Leia's. His blaster in hand, he made his way silently back to the front room.

" _Oya_ ," Fenn Shysa said cheerfully."There ya are."

"What are you doing here?"

"I saw your ship come in and thought I'd stop by. How have ya been?"

"You have Leia's entry codes," Fett said, not at all pleased by this. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Don't know if you noticed, but her husband ain't home much. She gave me a code for emergencies."

"And is this an emergency?"

Shysa only grinned at him. "Ya got a problem with it, take it up with Leia."

"Where is she?"

"She'll be back. You want to go get an ale? There's this place around the corner-"

"I asked you a question," Fett growled.

"And you can ask her when she gets back. If ya don't mind some friendly advice, I wouldn't use that tone." Shysa was still smiling, but there was flint in his steady gaze. There was something going on here, something Leia didn't intend for him to know and Shysa wasn't inclined to share. Fett holstered his weapon and returned to the holocommunicator. He plugged his access drive into the port and a navigational system flickered to life, with a pulsing light at the center. He looked at the coordinates just long enough to memorize them.

"Remote tracking device," Fenn observed. "I'm guessing Le'ika doesn't know about that."

Fett made a show of checking the charges on his rifle while he ran a quick diagnosis of the location. The data ran down the display inside the helmet while he watched Shysa wrestle with his options. "You want to tell me, or should it be a nice surprise for everyone involved?"

" _Osik_ ," Fenn muttered after a moment. "You're puttin' me in a very awkward spot, ya know that?" Fett started to leave, but the _Mand'alor_ held up a hand in resignation. "You remember Kal Skirata?"

"He's still alive?"

"He's near ninety, but a tough old bird. He has a clan enclave at Kyrimorut. Some refugees from the Clone Wars, that kind of thing." Fenn paused, his voice carefully neutral. "There's a Jedi too, though he ain't acted like one in years. Took up armor right after the war."

A fine chill ran down the back of his neck. "She went to see the Jedi?"

"She didn't say that. But she made it very clear she didn't want company, which is why I'm askin' ya nicely to stay here and wait for her to come back."

Fett turned and left the house. Shysa wasn't stupid enough to try to stop him. He went back to the docking bay and retrieved his swoop bike from _Slave I_.

He could only think a few reasons that Leia would seek out a Jedi in secret.

She might be recruiting for her brother. Skywalker was obsessed with hunting down any and all force-sensitive beings for his new Jedi order. But why send Leia to plead his case? And why would Leia agree to it? That led to the other possibility, that Leia had changed her mind about training as a Jedi and hid it from him. It was an ugly thought, but he forced himself to consider it.

But if it were true, why would she seek out some supposedly ex-Jedi when her brother was waiting with open arms? There would be something about this Jedi. Or something about his proximity. Skywalker was on the other side of the galaxy right now. If she needed to see a Jedi and she needed to see one immediately, it made sense for Fenn to point her in this direction. But that still didn't tell him _why_.

There was one other possibility that he considered, and that was Leia _had_ found the remote tracking system, and she and Fenn Shysa were having an affair, and this was all a trap. He dismissed the idea almost immediately. Leia was not a cheater, but more importantly she was not a coward. If she decided at any point that she wanted him dead, she would do it with a blaster bolt between the eyes, not by ambush.

He was no closer to finding an answer when he saw the sentries on the swoop bike shuddered to a halt and he dismounted a safe distance from them. He was still several miles from Kyrimorut, but he was close enough that they had to be Clan Skirata. This was one of the uglier parts of Mandalore, strip mined into wasteland by the _beskar_ -hungry Empire.

The sentries were young men, judging from their accessories and posture. The one on the left tensed as he approached, and the one on the right moved his fingers restlessly on his blaster. "Fenn Shysa called ahead to say you might be coming this way," said the latter. "Looks like he was right."

Fett stopped, his feet planted firmly in the dirt, his tone cold. "I believe you have my wife."

They walked with him to the ramshackle structure, a canteen for the enslaved miners, once. Smoke rose from the chimney and was lost in the overcast sky. The infrared sensor in his helmet indicated the presence of about twenty men inside, some sitting at tables, some standing.

The door opened, and Fett walked through, followed closely by his escorts. All of the men inside the canteen were wearing armor, but none were wearing helmets. He'd always heard rumors that some of the clones deserted for Mandalore during the Clone Wars, but it was still unsettling to be standing in a room surrounded by all-too-familiar eyes, noses, chins and ears. Some of them, the older ones, were clones. The younger ones were more likely the offspring of clones, with the resemblance dominating but not exact.

A cold knot formed his stomach. There was another reason Leia would seek out a Jedi, one that hadn't occurred to him until he was surrounded by the evidence of his own genetic inheritance.

She was sitting in a chair next to the fire. On one side of her sat a young man who was obviously of Jango Fett's line. The man sitting on her other side was older, bearded. There was an air of serenity about him that made the hairs on the back of Fett's neck stand up. He would be the Jedi, then.

Kal Skirata was also sitting by the hearth with his feet up on a chair. His face was deeply lined and his shoulders were beginning to hunch, but he was still recognizable as the man Fett had known as a child on Kamino.

" _Su'cry_ , Boba. Been a long time."

His only response was a stiff nod. Skirata sat up a little and folded his arms over his chest. "Take off your helmet. Let's have a look at you."

He complied because humoring the old man was the fastest way to extricate Leia from this unwanted reunion and leave. He tucked his helmet under his arm and raised his eyes, meeting the curiosity of the others with cold detachment. Skirata squinted at him for a moment. "You're thinner than Jango was, I think. Can't your wife cook?"

"She can't even boil water," Leia answered for him. Their eyes met, and the knot in his stomach grew tighter.

"Well?" He said, not wanting to hear it, but needing to know for sure.

She nodded, barely, and looked away. "The Force is strong in him."

He stopped breathing for a second or too. Even suspecting it, it still felt like a punch to the gut. "Why didn't you go to your brother?"

"I thought you wouldn't want me to. Not until we had a chance to talk."

There was a heavy silence, and then Skirata shifted in his chair and spoke gruffly. "All right, it's a baby, not a death sentence."

The other half of what she'd said caught up to him. "You said 'him.'"

Leia nodded. "Him. Our son." There was obviously more she wanted to say, but wouldn't in such a public setting. "My turn to ask a question. Where is it?"

"The tracking device?"

"Yes, Boba, the _tracking device_."

"Your shoes."

" _All_ of them?"

Something else occurred to him. "How far along are you?"

"About seven weeks."

Skirata made a tsking noise. "And only married for five, or so Fenn tells me." There were a few chuckles, and Leia rolled her eyes at him.

"He also said you weren't allowed to tease me."

"Is it teasing to point out facts?" Skirata asked with mock innocence. "He'll have a very common birthday, more likely than not. Half a dozen of my grandchildren have the same, or within a few days."

Leia managed to blush and looked annoyed at the same time. It took Fett a moment to count back and then he blinked in realization.

"Remembrance Day," Skirata said unnecessarily. "They celebrate it the same way everywhere. Lots and lots of -"

"-Drinking." Leia finished and the old mercenary gave her a wounded look.

"That's what I was going to say. That and singing."

"Yes, that too." Her cheeks were positively glowed red, and she glanced up at Fett. "I seem to recall doing a bit of both."

"You were very well assimilated." What _he_ recalled was that her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were shining, and she was wearing some sort of leather dress that was almost as soft as the skin beneath it.

"I guess we should be going," Leia said now, turning in her seat to look around it room. "It was a pleasure to meet all of you."

The Jedi touched her arm. "You'll think about what I said?"

"I will. Thank you." She turned to the young man on the other side of her. "Thank you, too." He nodded and squeezed her hand. Fett watched intently, trying to figure out what was different about this particular clone's son. He looked more or less like the rest of them, but there was definitely something else-

Skirata stood and his attention snapped back to the old man. He shook Leia's hand, drawing himself up straight. "It's a big job you've got, you and Fenn. Is it true that you're bringing back the Mandalorian Protectors?"

"Yes, but we can't do it alone. I'm sure the new Protectors would benefit from your resources and experience."

"My money, you mean." He didn't seem bothered by it.

"Not just your money." Leia cast her eyes around the room one more time. "We need Mandalorians to serve as Protectors. They need to be smart as well as strong, ruthless and cunning. Of course, it also doesn't hurt that you're all so remarkably good looking."

There was a murmur of laughter, and Skirata looked pleased. Leia joined Fett at the door, her eyes cool and her voice calm. "Ready?"

"After you."

They were six miles out of Kyrimorut when Leia grabbed at his shoulders. "Stop!" He pulled the bike off into an outcropping of rocks, and she jumped off the back, stumbling on the uneven ground before she bent over and vomited. He powered down the engines while she emptied her stomach and retrieved a canteen of water from the saddlebags.

Leia heaved a few more times, then gratefully rinsed her mouth. "Twice a morning like clockwork," she finally said, shakily moving towards a large, flat rock to find a seat. "For the first two days I thought it was something I ate. When I woke up this morning and nearly lost it all over the 'fresher floor, I took a home test." She pressed the cool canteen to her flushed face. "I was always so careful when we were together. It just happened that I was due for my next injection a few weeks after we broke up, and I thought 'why bother?' Even after Remembrance Day, I thought it wouldn't matter because you were always careful too. You gave yourself those shots every week."

"I stopped." The idea of having sex with anyone else was so profoundly unappealing, there didn't seem to be any point.

Leia gave a humorless laugh. "And of course, neither one of us thought to ask."

The darker suspicion, gnawing at the corners of his mind was that he wouldn't have cared. What he cared about at the time was that she was back in his arms, and more than anything in the galaxy he wanted to keep her there. It was more than sex, and more than missing her. She was his chance for everything, everything that was lacking in his life. Warmth, security, acceptance, love, _family_.

He thought he could handle her inheritance from her father, especially since she wanted nothing to do with it. The idea that ability would be passed on to his son made _him_ feel sick.

"I don't want this," he said.

"I know." She tilted her head back and looked up at him. "But I do."

"I've been here before," he reminded her. "I'm no fit parent for any child."

"You practically _were_ a child. Are the really same person you were at seventeen?"

"What about your career? You finally have some traction in the Senate, having a baby now can only slow you down."

"Others have done it. I'll manage."

She'd made up her mind. That much was clear. " _Why_?" He demanded, frustrated. "Why would you want this?"

She hesitated. "You won't like it."

"What I like is obviously irrelevant," he said, and the words came out harsher than he intended. "Just tell me the truth."

Leia took a moment, her eyes focused on the distant horizon. "There are two reasons, really. At first, I wasn't sure what I wanted to do. Everything you said is true, and this _is_ bad timing. For my career and also just for us. We've barely been married a month, and I never wanted a force-sensitive child. But I couldn't help wondering, what if it wasn't? What if this once the stars aligned and we managed to conceive a perfectly ordinary baby? I had to know for sure. I thought once I had all of the facts, we could talk about it and make the right decision. But once I knew...I don't know if I can explain it." She laid a hand over her stomach. "I can see him, as an infant, as a boy, as a man...I can _feel_ him." Her hand dropped into her lap."I warned you wouldn't like it."

"You said there were two reasons."

Her mouth curled into a pained smile. "I know you love me. But I also know that no matter how long we're together - a month, a year, fifty years, you'll always be bracing yourself for the sad and bitter end. This child...our son, is a part of you that will be mine forever."

Fett wanted to tell her that she was wrong. That he had very few genuine attachments in his life, but only he knew their strength. That the expectation that he would some day lose her did not make his commitment any less. In the moment, however, words failed him and he couldn't form the correct response

Leia had resumed looking out at the sky. "I want him to have all of the love and security that a child should have. If you're not up to the job, it would be better to walk away now."

Anger cut through his confusion, and it felt like relief. "Your brother would love that," he ground out. "He'll be eager to claim the baby for his Jedi order."

She stared at him, not understanding. "Why would he do that? He can't train a baby."

"The Jedi took babies once. The younger the better. They took them from their families. They _convinced_ them it was for their protection."

"Luke would never-"

"That's what Jedi do! They _destroy_ families. _He can't have my son_."

He realized he was nearly shouting, and the unfamiliar strain hurt his throat. Leia was staring up at him, still as a statue. After a moment she dropped her eyes and busied herself with screwing the cap onto his canteen. "The man I was sitting next to in there. Do you know who he is?"

"The Jedi?"

"No, the younger man. One of your nephews."

"Don't call him that," Fett told her curtly. "What about him?"

"He's force-sensitive. His father was a clone and his mother was a Jedi. His name is Venku. He doesn't use a lightsaber or call himself a knight, but he could sense me and he could sense our son. The Jedi is called Gotab, he was trained at the temple, but he decided to become a Mandalorian instead. Luke thinks you have to be a Jedi or you'll become a Sith, but that can't be true. Maybe we don't have do things the old way." She paused, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I asked Kal Skirata why when he was rounding up clones and refugees from the war, no one thought to round _you_ up. He said no one could find you, and that you wouldn't have come willingly anyway. At the time I thought it was an excuse, but I'm beginning to see what he meant. That was quite a complicated family dynamic in there."

"They're not my family."

Leia shook her head, then stood abruptly. "I'm tired. And in spite of the fact that I just lost my breakfast I'm _starving_. Take me back to my house, please."

It _was_ technically her house, but the fact that she called it that now instead of "our house" or even "home" felt like a bad sign. "Then what?"

"Then we can talk," she said shortly, her patience clearly at an end. "Or you can leave. Whichever you prefer." He offered his hand, but she stood up on her own and walked toward the bike.

He knew he should say something, but If there was a correct response, it remained frustratingly out of reach. Fett reached into one of his pockets. "Leia."

She turned, frowning. He held out a protein stick. She looked down at it, and for a moment neither of them moved. "Don't do that," she said, her voice wavering slightly. "Don't be _nice_."

"You said you were hungry. It's for the ride."

Slowly, she reached out and took it. "Godsdamnit," she muttered. "Just tell me. _Communicate_ , for once in your life. Are you leaving or not?"

The answer came to him then, not the answer to her question but the one that allowed him to stall. "I need time to think about it."

"That's fair," she said, much to his relief.

"Ready to go?" She nodded and he flipped the ignition switch. The swoop bike roared to life. Leia got on behind him, one hand tucked into the back of his belt. Fett turned the bike towards Keldabe. Dark clouds were forming in the west, a storm in the making. Time to go home.


	19. Dagobah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia has a surreal encounter and makes a difficult decision.

**Dagobah**

Leia was perspiring in the damp heat. A few feet away a snake slithered through the shiny green foliage that covered the ground and vanished under a moss-covered rock. She wiped her forehead on her sleeve and wondered why Luke insisted that this cave was such a special place. As far as she could see, it was only special if you really liked mud and fungi. But Luke insisted that she had to go, that she would only find clarity by facing what was inside.

"And what's inside?" She'd asked, more than a little suspicious.

"Only what you take with you."

Leia rolled her eyes. "Could you be a little _more_ cryptic?"

"Sorry." Her brother had smiled self-consciously and shrugged. "I don't know how to describe it. You just have to go."

It sounded ominous to her. She glanced over at the table where a slender metal cylinder lay. Her lightsaber, not that she could bring herself to really think of it as hers. "Should I bring that?"

"You won't need it."

She was relieved to hear it, but she also felt guilty. Luke had made the weapon for her, a remarkable work of craftsmanship that she admired and then immediately put down on the table inside of Yoda's abandoned hut. She hadn't touched it since. It made her uncomfortable, the idea that her brother had somehow anticipated this day.

She certainly hadn't.

And neither had her husband, judging by the fourteen hour period of complete silence that followed her announcement that she needed to go to Dagobah to "sort some things out."

And now here she was, unarmed and sweating in a cave with gray mud and sludge squishing beneath her boots. "This is stupid," she muttered, pushing aside a vine. "What am I doing here?" She took another step into the gloom nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a familiar voice. "Not another step."

"Boba?"

But then he stepped out of the shadows and it was all wrong. This man was dressed in silver and blue armor, and after a second he lowered the slender blaster pistol he'd been aiming at her head. "Oh. It's you." He holstered his gun and removed his helmet. The face was wrong too. No, not wrong, just different.

"You're Jango Fett," she said, her heart hammering in her throat.

"Guilty."

Leia glanced around at the eerie cave with new eyes. "But you're dead." She took a deep, steadying breath. "So this can't be real. I knew there was something funny about this cave." It was probably full of Hongo'h spores, or some other form of organic hallucinogen.

"Sure, go with that." Jango shrugged. "Might as well get this over with. I'm a busy man."

He sounded so much like his son, it was a little jarring. "Get what over with?"

"Whatever it is you're here for." When she stared at him blankly, he shook his head. "All right. You're unarmed, so I assume we're not here to fight. Let's talk. How's my grandson?"

Leia thawed a little at the mention of her six-week old son. "He's beautiful. And he never, ever sleeps."

"Neither did Boba," Jango grunted. "I spent the first three months of his life walking him up and down the halls of Tipoca City. It was the only thing that put him to sleep." He smiled briefly at the memory before his expression turned sober. "I wish I could see him."

"His name is Jonah. But I guess...maybe you know that already."

"No. Good, strong name though. Jonah Fett." He paused. "They have jonah trees on Mandalore. Big thick trunks. Solid."

"Yes, I know." There was a slightly uncomfortable pause, and then Leia changed the subject. "So what are you doing here?"

"How should I know? This place is for your people, not mine."

"Am I supposed to believe you were plucked out of the afterlife just to talk to me?"

"Believe whatever you want to believe about the afterlife, you'll be wrong anyway. As far as this place goes, my guess is that it's some sort of realm for you Jedi to work out your most important issues."

"I'm not really a Jedi. And no offense," Leia continued dryly "but I have a lot of issues, and I'm not sure why you would be considered the most important of them all."

"None taken." He smiled at her again, the expression strangely distinctive from any she'd seen on his son's face. "Maybe this is just what's on top of the pile these days. Are you worried Boba won't stick around?"

"No."

"Liar."

"No," she repeated more firmly, looking her dead father-in-law in the eye. "You raised him to hate Jedi, distrust politicians and see love as a weakness, but here I am."

Jango's smile hardened. "We're not going to get along, are we?"

"Probably not."

"That's a shame." He paused. "New parents think they know everything. What makes you so sure you can do a better job?"

"We could try giving him a childhood that doesn't involve hunting and killing other life forms for money."  
"I'm sure he'll be very well-adjusted," Jango said mockingly. "Dragged back and forth between the high society of Coruscant and the cargo bay of _Slave I_. Come back in ten years and tell me how it's going."

"Maybe I'll do that," Leia replied icily. "Will you still be here?"

"I doubt it. But who knows? Maybe I'm part of some other Jedi's nightmares." He touched the grips of his pistols. "If there's any justice to it, maybe I'll get to kill a few more of them in their own dream cave."

Leia frowned at him. "It really doesn't make any sense that you're here."

Jango shrugged. "You're here because of a mystical Force. Does that make sense to you?" He shook his head as if a thought had just occurred to him. "Boba must _hate_ this."

"He does." It was the truth, but it still hurt to say it. "I promised him I would never even consider walking the same path as my father, but I didn't know-" She stopped and shook her head. "This is ridiculous. Why am I defending myself to a subconscious manifestation?"

"I'm slightly more than a subconscious manifestation," Jango replied, leaning against the cave wall with his arms crossed. "But go on. What didn't you know?"

Leia hesitated, searching for words. "The whole time I was pregnant, I could sense our son. I had this connection to him that...I don't know if I can explain. I could sense his feelings and share my own with him. After he was born, it wasn't the same, but I thought it would be fine. If a child has two parents that love him, what else does he need? But Boba-" She broke off abruptly, not wanting to think the words, let alone say them. "I want that connection with to my son back. I need it. If I can make him feel loved every day of his life…" She turned away, her throat tight and her eyes stinging. "Maybe it will be enough."

" _Fierfek_ ," Jango said quietly. "What are you saying? That Boba doesn't love his own son?"

She turned back around, her hands in fists at her sides. "He doesn't complain. Not about the crying, or the sleepless nights, or even about changing diapers. But I don't need the Force to see that something is missing. When he holds him-" she held out her arms, her palms cupped, "he doesn't look at him. He looks at me. The only time he really looks at Jonah is when he thinks I'm not watching him. And then it's as if he's looking at a malfunctioning piece of a machinery." She gave a soft, humorless laugh. "Sometimes he'll say something or do something that reminds me that he's done this before. But he never talks about it. And I wonder...was it like this before? Did he hold his daughter in his arms and feel nothing?"

"I don't know."

"I didn't really expect you to." Leia allowed herself to lean back against a rock, ignoring the dampness seeping into her clothes. "After all, you're a figment of my imagination. You can't know more than I do."

Jango gave her an appraising look and adjusted his position against the wall. "And if I weren't? What would you want to know?"

She took her time responding, even though she didn't need time to give it any thought. The words were already there, a constant, worrying refrain. "Would it be any different if Jonah were normal?"

He gave her an exasperated look. "That's your question? A fucking hypothetical? Why don't you ask Boba how he feels about having a Force-sensitive kid?"

"I did!"

"And?"

"He said he needed to think about it." Her lips drew up into a brittle smile. "A week passed. Then two weeks, then three. And now nine months later...here we are."

"Seems like an answer to me."

"It doesn't feel like one."

There was a pause. Jango shifted. "Well. Why not leave, then?"

Leia stared at him. "Because I love him."

"I believe you. But there's no love in this galaxy stronger than fear. Stay and you'll always live with the fear that Boba will never love his son, and that Jonah will be able to sense it, or the fear that he'll turn to the dark side because of it." He tilted his head to one side. "There's an interesting hypothetical for you. If your son turned Sith, would your brother feel obligated to kill his own nephew? Would Boba side with a Jedi over his own flesh and blood? Where would that leave you?"

She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. "What are you trying to say? That we're doomed?"

"It's possible." Jango appeared thoughtful. "I don't know what the future holds. But I know this. You may not be able to control the way Boba feels or who Jonah grows up to be. But you can overcome your fear, if you're willing to wake up every day and fight it." He straightened. "Time's almost up. Would you tell Boba something for me?"

"What?"

"There's a question he's always asking. Tell him the answer is 'every day.'"

Leia looked doubtfully back towards the entrance, where the real world waited. "If I tell him I've been chatting with his dead father in a cave, he'll think I've lost it."

"You're probably right," Jango admitted, but there was regret in his voice. "It's your call then, if the right time ever comes." He replaced his helmet. " _Re'turcye_ , Leia."

"Good hunting," she echoed in Basic as he turned away. He didn't so much walk away as fade into the rocks and shadows, and then she was alone again with the mud and moss. She still didn't know if this was a dream or a hallucination. Could she leave? She took two careful steps towards the mouth of the cave. No more ghosts appeared. She took another step, and then another. Her pace was rapid and then suddenly she was outside in the pale gray fog.

She grasped a thick vine and held on to it while her heartbeat slowed. She could see the slimy gray pond, and just beyond that Yoda's hut. Luke would be waiting for her.

But she wasn't going there. Not yet.

_Slave I_ rested in a small clearing about two miles north of Yoda's hut, the faded hull nearly camouflaged by the gray rocks and foliage. Fett was stripped down in the humid atmosphere, his body suit open and hanging from his waist, sweat soaking through his undershirt in large patches. He was tinkering with something on Slave I, his movements precise and curiously quiet. Leia looked around, but saw no sign of the baby. "Where's-"

He spun around and made a swift gesture, easily interrupted as an order for silence. Leia froze and followed his gaze to a bundle swinging in a makeshift hammock hung from a gun turret. "You got him to sleep," she said in an awed tone, peeking down at the peaceful infant. "Hey, little baby," she cooed in a whisper, then flinched when he stirred. His tiny mouth puckered as if he were sucking on something in his sleep. Fett gave her an exasperated look.

"Sorry," she mouthed, cringing, but after a few tense seconds, Jonah settled back down to sleep. Leia breathed a sigh of relief, and backed away.

"What was in the cave?" Fett asked, barely audible.

"Self-reflection," she said after a moment. "And mud. Lots of mud." She lifted her boots in illustration, and he nodded and went back to his work. He probably thought she couldn't see his relief, but she could. It was the little things, like the angle of his shoulders and the tension of his mouth, minute details she might have missed once. She couldn't miss them now.

She might not feel the same connection to the Force as when she was pregnant, but there was something there, a new awareness that could not be denied. Most of the time she fought it, out of respect for Fett's privacy as well the fear that he would eventually figure it out. He was easy to read now because he didn't guard himself with her. Put him in Luke's presence for a second and the walls came up. They were strong, thick walls, fortified by years of doing business with Sith and hunting down Jedi.

And that was why, even though Jango Fett was long dead and had no contact with his son, she hadn't told him the whole truth. She certainly didn't lie. On those rare occasions when she caught a glimpse of father and son together, she could feel the emptiness between them. But she could also feel Fett's frustration, and likewise his pain. It hurt him to not be able to feel what he wanted to feel for his son, or what he thought he should feel, but he never once flinched or turned away.

And if she had to gamble with her future, she would always bet on Boba Fett's determination and strength of will.

Leia stepped up behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest. She laid her cheek between his shoulder blades. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"For coming with me. And for...giving me space to decide for myself. This was Luke's path. But it isn't mine."

He paused, the muscles in his back tightening as he turned his head towards her. "You told him?"

"Not yet." She closed her eyes, focused on the steady beat of his heart. "We have to let Jonah decide for himself when he's old enough. You know that, right?"

"Hand me that geospanner."

She released him and went to retrieve it. He made an adjustment and slid a long cylinder back in place. "Boba?"

"How old is old enough?"

"I was thinking...thirteen is the age of majority in Mandalorian culture."

He carefully slid the radiation casing back in place and tightened the lugs. The he turned his head to the side, his eyes on the sleeping baby in the hammock. "Thirteen," he echoed grimly. He bent to retrieve a rag and began to slowly and methodically clean the spanner.

Leia moved closer, instinctively wanting to offer comfort. She tugged the rag out of his hand and replaced it with her own. There had been so little physical contact between them since Jonah's birth, even casual touching had an awkward feel to it. Days rushed by, and nights were as slippery as shadows. Even if there had been time for some variation of intimacy, the combination of sleep deprivation and emotional turmoil didn't exactly put her in an amorous mood.

She looked down at her hand. Their fingers laced together, hers pale and slim, his thicker and more tan. Her eyes followed the smooth, sweeping line of his forearm up to his muscular biceps. He looked good, even covered with sweat and grease. She turned into him, guiding his hand around her back. There was tension in his arm. "I was thinking," she said, her voice dropping into a whisper as if the baby could hear her, "that maybe tonight we could…"

His gaze sharpened immediately. "It's okay?"

"When you feel ready," were the doctor's exact words. But they were preparing to leave for Dagobah at the time and her husband was barely speaking to her. "As soon as he goes to sleep tonight," she promised. "We can take our ti-" He dropped the spanner noiselessly into the thick grass, and pulled her to him in one swift motion, all stiffness and uncertainty gone. Her gasp of surprise was cut off by his mouth and then he was kissing her like the heat-death of the galaxy was imminent.

It took her a second or two get over her shock, and then she returned the embrace, her arms circling his neck. One kiss melted into another as they clung together, until Leia was genuinely dizzy from lack of air. His hands spread over her lower back, sliding down over her ass and pulling her hips roughly against his. Without his armor on she could feel his hardness against her stomach, and there was an answering flash of heat inside her.

Strong fingers curled around her thigh, pulling her leg up and around his thigh. It registered dimly in the back of her mind that she was perilously off-balance, and then suddenly there was marsh grass under her and Fett on top of her, and no question about how it happened. "Boba!" She shoved his chest in mock outrage, but she was laughing and he pushed her hands aside easily.

"Shhh." He shifted his weight so he could stretch out fully against her and brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. "He's asleep now. No guarantees for later."

He licked the side of her neck and Leia shivered. "You can't be serious. Right now? Out here?"

Fett pulled back just enough to make eye contact. "We can't go inside the ship and leave him out here," he said reasonably, "something might slither out of the bog and eat him. And we both know it's impossible to move him without waking him."

She couldn't argue with any of that. "Luke," she said suddenly. "Luke is out there somewhere, what if he-"

"Perimeter sensor." He fished a small cylinder out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Anything over a certain size gets within twenty yards of the ship, it vibrates. Hold onto it." The moment her hand closed around it, his were pulling her jacket open. Godsdamn it. Why did he always have to have an answer for everything?

His hands cupped her breasts through her shirt and she bit her lip to stifle a moan. Her eyes closed and her back arched as her sensitive nipples responded, followed by a sharp tingling sensation. Fett exhaled, and it sounded enough like a laugh to make her eyes fly open with realization. "Oh, seven hells."

Small wet spots soaked through her shirt directly over her nipples. Her husband lifted up the fabric for a better look, but Leia clamped her hands over her breasts in response, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. "Move your hands," he ordered.

She dropped her hands to her sides, her fingers curling into fists. "Look, then. You've seen me feed him."

"I have. It's...interesting." He swiped his thumb over a wet nipple and narrowed his eyes at the bead of milk that clung to it.

"You can try it if you want. I have."

His brows lifted, but after a moment he licked it off his thumb. "Hm."

"Not bad, is it?"

"I can see why he likes it." He ducked his head down and licked the rest of the milk from her skin.

"Don't do that," she protested weakly. The pressure from his warm tongue soothed away the ache, and stirred up a restless heat in her belly.

"Why not?"

"You'll make it worse."

"So? No sheets to wash." He pinched her nipple experimentally and few drops of milk bubbled out.

Leia slapped at his hand and gave him a furious look. "I said _don't_."

He caught her wrist and pinned it down to her side, a devious gleam in his eyes. She squirmed as his mouth closed around her nipple, sucking lightly on the tip. A shudder ran through her body, and her head rolled back toward the ground. "You're such a beast," she moaned, tugging her hand free and digging her nails into the nape of his neck. "Get up here." His mouth tasted a little like milk, but it didn't really bother her. Her fingers fumbled down to his waist, unsnapping the rest of his suit and pulling his undershirt free so she could run her hands over the familiar contours of his chest.

She couldn't believe how much she'd missed the pleasure of touching and being touched. The awareness of being so close, she could feel his breath on her cheek and the way it caught when her fingertips brushed over his abdomen. The muscles in his stomach contracted as her fingers moved down, tracing the faint line of hair south. Heat radiated off his skin. He said something, unintelligible but probably profane, as she wrapped her hand loosely around his cock.

"Oh," she murmured appreciatively, her hips rising in unconscious response.

He gave her ragged look, his jaw clenched tight, and removed her hand from his pants. "Hold that thought," Fett ordered, giving her a quick, hard kiss before he shifted back to his knees and removed her boots. Her pants came off next, and just as she was about to say something about marsh grass stabbing her in the ass he leaned down and pressed his mouth to the inside of her leg, just above her knee. He licked upward, and she promptly forgot what she was going to say.

The heat gathering inside of her was almost unbearable. His fingers dragged up the inside of her thigh and she thought her skin might catch fire. Her hips lifted again, shamelessly begging, and he kissed her stomach, his fingers tugging at her underwear. If he made her wait any longer she was going to go insane. "Boba-"

His fingers between her legs were a revelation, but almost immediately it wasn't enough. With what little presence of mind she had left she reached down and grabbed him, her hand tight around his shaft. He inhaled sharply and then it was a frenzy of motion, a rush to get rid of anything between them.

Her doctor had warned her that it might feel different, but any momentary discomfort was inconsequential. She was being held and kissed and filled and she felt brightly and vibrantly alive for the first time in months.

Fett leaned down to capture her mouth and Leia wrapped her legs tight around his waist, her hands grasping at his broad back as they rocked together on the damp earth. She squirmed, just for the pleasure of it, and he pushed back, driving her harder into the ground. "Oh gods," she gasped. "Do that again." He obliged, sending a white-hot jolt through her. She tilted her hips, panting as she tried to find that place again. "That. Don't stop."

His eyes were on her face, dark and intense as he anchored his feet to the ground and thrust again. Leia bit down on her lower lip, so close to the edge she could practically taste it. She pushed at his chest and Fett sat up on his knees, bringing her hips up with him. "Again," she moaned, stroking herself with her fingers. "Please-"

His hands on her hips were almost painfully tight, his teeth bared with concentration as he complied. Leia shut her eyes and for those breathless seconds nothing else existed except the rhythm of her fingers and the rhythm of his thrusts. When the two collided, she shattered. Her body drew taut, eliciting a harsh groan from her husband as he fell with her.

Some time later she opened her eyes, dragged out of a light doze by a soft buzzing sound. At some point they had switched positions, Fett was on his back and she was draped peacefully over his left side. She lifted her head off of his shoulder, looking around for the source of the noise. His eyes cut over to where the perimeter sensor had rolled unnoticed under a clump of marsh weeds.

"Oh gods. Luke." Leia tried to sit up, but his arms tightened around her and he nuzzled into the soft skin under her ear.

"I could just shoot him."

"That's not funny," she scolded, pushing at his arms until he relented. She rushed to put her clothes back on, but it seemed the sensor was in good working order. By the time Luke came into sight, she was sitting on a crate lacing up her boots while Fett collected his tools.

"Hey," her brother said in greeting. "Where's-"

On cue, Jonah woke up the way only young babies can, with a great cry of outrage. Leia retrieved him from the hammock, but he still kicked and whined. She smoothed her hand over his soft curls, amused by the scowl on his face. He had his father's hair and coloring, but there were certain faces that made the resemblance uncanny. "You took a good nap. Don't tell me you woke up grumpy."

Luke came to stand over her shoulder and smiled down at his nephew. "He's too cute to be grumpy."

"Ha. Spend the night with him sometime." He held out his arms, and she handed Jonah over. She didn't want to have this conversation now, but it was better to get it over with. "Luke, about the cave…"

"I know." Her brother busied himself arranging the baby in his arms. "You don't have to say anything. You came here."

"I'm sorry."

He met her eyes and smiled ruefully. "Don't be sorry. You chose them, and if that's what you need to be happy…" His gaze drifted towards Fett, standing watchfully yet unobtrusively near by. "Then I'm happy for you. And if things ever change, the door is always open to you."

It was times like these when she could feel the bond between them, as warm and as solid as too hands clasped together. "Thank you, Luke."

Her brother's eyes dropped back down to her son. "The force is strong in him, Leia. I could sense it even before he was born."

"I know." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "We've known...for a while."

"And?"

Fett took her words as summons and came to stand beside her, his arms crossed over his chest. "When the time is right, he'll decide for himself. I won't interfere."

Luke gave that a moment of consideration. "And I won't say anything to him. Not without your permission." His eyes dropped back down to Jonah. "Look at that face...is he smiling?" Leia's skeptical reply was cut off by an unmistakable farting noise. "...And back you go to your mother."

"Wait," she said as she took back the baby. "Don't go. Can't you use the Force the change a diaper?"

"Nope. Strictly forbidden. Sorry." Luke started to back away. "Have a safe trip back to Mandalore."

"Wait." She handed Jonah to Fett and hugged her brother tightly. "Take care of yourself."

"I will. You too."

Leia released him and turned back toward her husband and her son. Fett lifted Jonah up, his hands securely under his arms and supporting the back of his neck. "You smell like _osik_ , boy." Jonah gazed back at his father, unperturbed. "Home?' Fett asked her.

"Home." She agreed. "Let's go home."


	20. Epilogue: Mandalore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13 years later...

**Mandalore, 13 years later**

"Does your mother know you're in here, _ad'ika_?"

"She's with me." Boba Fett turned to address the gray-haired Mandalorian taking a seat at the bar. The man glanced at his armor with recognition and little wariness. He then looked back at Fett's four-year old daughter, sitting on the bar and swinging her legs, a half-empty glass of milk in her hands.

"I'll rephrase that then. Does Senator Organa know that her daughter is hanging around tapcafes learning new words from the boloball watchers?"

Shysa Fett raised her eyebrows and looked at her father with an expression that perfectly resembled her mother, milk mustache notwithstanding. "I won't tell, Dad."

"Finish your drink." He kept his eyes on the man who apparently felt the need to give him parenting advice. "Do I know you?"

"Goran Beviin. We met once years ago at the Remembrance Day celebration in Keldabe. It was before you and the Senator were married, I think. I said something critical about her speech and had very distinct impression you didn't like me."

He remembered him now. "You were a friend of Fenn Shysa's."

"That's right." Goran lifted his ale in a silent salute. " _Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la_." He took a sip and eyed Fett, who remained silent during the tribute. "Big boots you've got to fill, _Mand'alor_."

"I'm going to be _Mand'alor_ ," Shysa announced. "When I'm older."

Goran was clearly amused by this. "She looks like her mother," he said, which was what everyone said. She did, except for her hair. It was dark and unruly, frizzing around her small face. Leia had remarked many times that it didn't come from _her_ side of the family.

"It's my brother's birthday today," she continued. "He's thirteen. Mom is coming home from Coruscant today and she's bringing Uncle Luke with her. We're having a party. It's going to be fun."

"Sounds like fun," Goran agreed.

Fett turned back to the bar and paid for his daughter's milk. "Office hours are over," he told the bartender, who nodded and glanced at the crono on the wall.

"It's early. What should I tell anyone who comes in looking for you?"

He lifted his daughter down from the bar, struggling with the overwhelming desire to dig up Fenn Shysa's corpse and punch his face repeatedly. He was forced to admit he'd underestimated the man's stubbornness, not to mention his patience. Five years ago they were pinned down in a nasty fight, and with his final breath, The _Mand'alor_  made a request that Fett was in no position to refuse. Even his wife, grieving the loss of her friend and pregnant with their daughter, refused to give him an out. Fenn Shysa finally had his Fett _Mand'alor_.

Most of the time it was an easy title to maintain. Mandalorians didn't require a lot of leadership, so for the most part Fett could come and go as he pleased. The exception was one particular precedent set by Fenn Shysa, the expectation that once a month the _Mand'alor_ could be found in a public place for anyone who needed to speak with him. It was Fett's least favorite day of the month.

The bartender was still waiting for an answer. Fett's attention returned to Goran Beviin, who was peacefully drinking his ale. "They can talk to him."

"Goran?" The bartender asked in confusion.

Goran turned his head to stare at him. "What?"

"I'm appointing you. Just sit here and talk to anyone who has a problem. Don't contact me. Unless it's urgent."

"I hate to break to it, Fett, but I have better things to do than your job. I have a farm to get back to."

"You call yourself a Mandalorian?" Fett challenged. "You're bound to rally to the _Mand'alor_ 's call. I'm _calling_ you."

Goran's expression slowly shifted from incredulous to annoyed. The bartender put a hand over the lower half of his face, and coughed unconvincingly.

"Time to go, Shysa." He took his daughter's hand and they walked together out to the speeder, Fett adjusting his steps for Shysa's shorter legs. She fell asleep on the journey home, having not completely outgrown the need for an afternoon nap. When Leia's house in Keldabe grew too small for their family, they built a house amid the forests of Mandalore. The children had a built-in exercise ground with rocks and trees, and it was a more defensible location in case of trouble.

He carried Shysa into the house and tucked her into bed, then checked the location signals for his sons. Kyd was out of range. Jonah was out behind the house in the sparring ring Fett had built to teach them hand-to-hand combat. As soon as he walked out the back door he heard a humming noise that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Jonah was alone in the sparring ring. In his hands was a bright yellow lightsaber.

"Hi Dad," he said without taking his eyes off the hovering training remote.

"Where's Kyd?"

"He took the other speeder to West Peak to meet Mom and Uncle Luke."

Kyd was the result of a swift adoption when his spice-smuggling parents were killed by a group of Mandalorian Protectors ten years earlier. He would turn thirteen in six months, with considerably less stress. Fett watched as Jonah circled the electronic sphere, keeping it in the striking zone. "Where did that come from?"

"Uncle Luke sent it. He said I could practice before he got here."

For thirteen years the uneasy truce they'd reached on Dagobah held, but it seemed his brother-in-law was wasting no time now. Fett's jaw tightened, but he carefully kept his voice neutral. "How is it?"

"It's surprisingly heavy. Not as heavy as some blasters, but still...I dunno. It's just a training saber. I thought it would be lighter." He brought the lightsaber up again, but his eyes cut towards his father. "I thought you were going to be gone all day."

"I left early."

"Uncle Luke said you wouldn't be able to resist sulking in plain sight," Jonah reported, jumping to one side as the remote spit out a bolt.

"Did he." The Jedi was usually more careful, especially in the presence of the Fett children. Perhaps the gloves were finally off.

"And then Mom said the two of you have been sniping at each other so long it's more habit than anything else." The remote spit out two quick shots, and this time Jonah got the saber down in time to block. His eyes widened appreciatively. "Whoa! Did you see that?"

"If you deflect a real bolt like that, you'll put a hole in the workshop roof. Angle it down more." Fett paused. "I'm guessing your mother didn't know you were listening in on her conversation with your uncle."

Jonah didn't take his eyes off the remote. "No sir."

"Did you hack the frequency or bug the device?"

"Hack." His son grinned proudly. "I wanted to see if I could do it from my helmet. I spliced the transmission and jacked the audio in under a minute."

People said that Jonah looked as much like his father as Shysa looked like her mother, but then he would smile, more confident and charming than any thirteen-year old had any right to be, and Fett didn't see himself at all.

"Remote off," Jonah ordered, and the device blinked off and set down automatically. The lightsaber died in his hand, and he looked at his father silently. The words seemed to burst out of him, a mix of accusation and curiosity. "You don't want me to do this, do you? You want me to be _normal_. Like Kyd and Shysa."

To buy himself some time, Fett slowly removed his helmet. Strange how he could look at a half-grown boy and still see a screaming baby wrapped in a soft white blanket. Jonah was laid in his arms for the first time, and there was no rush of bliss, no shining love, none of things he observed when Leia held him. There was only a tightness in his chest, and the cold knowledge that this tiny, helpless human he'd helped create would always be in danger.

Jango Fett taught him that the only way to master fear was to confront it. Fett could face down a rancor without flinching. He could fly straight at an asteroid, only to dodge away at the last possible second. He could take down a dozen men with his bare hands. He could kill Jedi and Sith of every species. But it took him years, long, difficult years, to master the fear that gripped him every time he looked at his son.

"I want you to be safe," he said slowly. "It's what I've wanted since the day you were born. What do you want me to say?"

Jonah stared at him fiercely for a moment. "How about that you love me, and you're proud of me, and you trust me to make my own decisions."

Silence vibrated between them for a few seconds. Fett straightened his shoulders and held his son's gaze. "I love you. I'm proud of you. You're thirteen years old, and tomorrow morning you're getting up before dawn and doing fifty pushups. Don't ever hack into your mother's comm line again."

His son gave him a look of teenage exasperation, but he knew better than to argue. "Yes sir." He started to say something else, but they both heard the speeder approaching and turned back towards the house.

"Dad! Check it out," Kyd Fett jumped nimbly out of the speeder. "Look what Uncle Luke brought me."

It was another training remote, but this one projected an energy field target that absorbed blaster bolts. Luke Skywalker was many things, but Fett could never say anything about his abilities as a doting uncle. "I have one for Shysa too," the Jedi said as he climbed out.

"She's napping right now." Fett went to help Leia down from the speeder. She didn't need his help, it was just an excuse to touch her after two weeks apart. Given his choice, he would carry her straight into their bedroom and lock the door behind them. He would lay naked in bed with her for at least an hour, holding her tight until all the tension of the day was finally submerged by her presence. Then, of course, they would fuck. "How were the last two weeks of the senate session?"

"Two weeks too long," she answered with a tired smile. "I've been asked to run for Chancellor again."

"Will you?" She always said no. The children were two young, she was needed in Keldabe, there were any number of good reasons. But this time she paused before answering.

"I don't know. I told them I would think about it, but only if I could appoint someone to take my place as the representative of Mandalore." She frowned slightly. "Speaking of which, aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"My Chief of Internal Affairs is handling it."

Her brows lifted in surprise. "Your what?"

"I'm delegating."

A small smile played around the corners of her mouth. "We'll have to discuss that later." Her attention strayed back to the sparring ring. Kyd climbed over the wall to get a closer look at his brother's progress.

"You get zapped yet?"

"No," Jonah scoffed. "It's easy. Shysa could beat this thing with a stick."

Skywalker was clearly amused by his nephew's boasting. "Give it to me. It's not calibrated for Fetts." He tinkered with it and switched it on. The orb shot to one side and spit out three quick shots, forcing both boys to scatter.

Jonah dove to the ground and rolled, coming up with his lightsaber ignited. He raised it with one hand and crooked the fingers of his other hand mockingly. "Come and get me, you little bucket of bolts."

Fett didn't think he'd ever seen Luke Skywalker look so happy. The Jedi put his arm around Kyd's shoulders. "C'mon, let's get yours set up."

Leia stayed close by Fett's side, her expression carefully neutral. "He's learning fast."

"He learns everything fast."

"Just like his father." She knotted her hands in front of her, her voice soft. "Are you okay?"

Fett kept his eyes on his oldest son. The remote was forcing him to move a lot more, but he hadn't been struck once. "A Hutt walks into a bar on Ord Mantell. He orders the strongest drink in the house. The bartender gives it to him, and the Hutt falls over dead. And then the bartender says…"

His wife stared at him in shock. "Oh my gods. I can't believe you even remember that." He waited, and after a moment she looked up at him with visible embarrassment. "Boba, I have to tell you something. I should have told you a long time ago. There is no punchline. It's not a real joke. I made it up on the spot. I knew the bartender would be coming back, and I was just...flirting." She shook her head. "It all seems so stupid now. I liked you, you know," she added quietly. "Even when I thought you were just some pilot trying to score."

"I liked you too," he said, remembering the way she smiled at him and how soft the skin on the underside of her arm was. At that moment, he would have liked to have just been a pilot.

She paused and lowered her voice. "Do you think...if I had said to you 'look, we're never going to see each other again, so let's find a hotel room.' Would you have gone with me?"

"No." She gave him a look that suggested that was not the right answer. "But I would have wanted to."

"Thanks, that's very reassuring." They watched their son for a few minutes in silence "Just think, you could have avoided this. You just had to buy me that drink." She sounded like she was joking, but the sharp angle of her chin said otherwise. In the ring, Jonah advanced, slashing with his weapon as the remote scuttled back. Leia took a deep breath. "Do you ever feel like your dad is standing over your shoulder, watching you?"

"Every day." She turned to look at him, and Fett immediately felt self-conscious. "What? Sound crazy?"

"Not at all," she replied thoughtfully, staring off into the distance. "I feel like they're all here, my parents, your dad. They're watching us. Watching him." Her eyes went to her firstborn. "None of them could have seen this coming. It makes me wonder, what's coming that we can't see?"

Fett reached over and took her hand, threading their fingers together. Her grip was almost painfully tight. "Nothing we can't handle."

"That's what I'm afraid of," she said grimly before falling back on sarcasm. "I'm probably overreacting. After all, he's only the force-sensitive grandson of Darth Vader, raised by a senator and trained by one of most ruthless bounty hunters in the galaxy. What could go wrong?"

A few yards away, a yellow blade sliced through the air and connected solidly with the training remote. Sparks flew, and the metal orb crashed into the ground. Black smoke curled up from it as Jonah turned off the lightsaber and wiped his brow with his sleeve. "Oops."

Skywalker came over to have a look. "Uh...looks like I'll have to make some modifications. Don't worry. I think I can fix it."

"Don't bother," Fett told him. "Kyd, your gun."

Kyd complied. "I got next."

Fett set the pistol on a low-grade stun. "Think you can handle an opponent with a brain?"

Jonah grinned and ignited the saber in response. Leia stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Be careful."

"I always am."

* * *

**Mando'a Translations**

Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la - Not gone, merely marching away

* * *

**Author's Note**

_70,000 words and three years later, I just wanted to say "thank you." Thank you for being willing to give this crazy story a shot. Thank for you for the kudos and all of the amazing feedback._

_Special thanks to[Lady Peter](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4239874/), for coming in as beta reader for the last half of this story and being completely invaluable._

Meeting Like This _is done, but believe it or not, I have a few more Fett/Leia stories I want to tell, so be on the lookout for some additional one-shots and ficlets_ _._

_And finally, if you have a suggestion or an idea for a Fett/Leia story, send me a message or hit me up on[tumblr](http://theloneliestshipper.tumblr.com/)._


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